Frozen - A Sky Full of Stars
by LeGrande Grover
Summary: Set after The Snow Queen and the FireHeart, Elsa and Yasha embrace the connection they found on their path to Fria, unaware that there are those in Arendelle that are not so eager to accept the union of the young Queen and her crucible Prince. With Yasha still harboring his secrets and Elsa being challenged by her duties as Queen, they will discover if their love can truly endure.
1. Beneath the Envious Moon

**I**

Beneath the Envious Moon

A sky full of stars reigned above the kingdom of Arendelle. They burned overhead like the countless sparkles in the eyes of lovers, and cast pale light into the chambers of the Snow Queen, carefully lining the carpeted floor with straight lines and shadows. It was the cool of night, like an afterthought of winter's embrace, and Elsa was humming softly as she attended to every detail of her appearance, looking into the crystal clarity of the mirror before her, yet letting her eyes drift back and forth to the shadows. The magic surged and glowed across her milky white skin, sometimes causing the blue material of her dress to leave the whole of her back bare, a playful glimmer in her eyes as she tested how low she could cast it before she drew a reaction from the shadows. While commanding the mood, she suffered a heavy blush on her cheeks as she played, moving her arms and hands in coordination with her magic to never let too much show to the shadows or the mirror, even as she was just as engrossed with the game as the subject of her tease.

After letting the atmosphere become dangerously heated, the young queen went back to the matter at hand. Letting out a short breath, she resigned the game and caused her dress to change once more, making the sleeves run longer and the collar grow up her neck. Delicate loops slipped around her middle fingers and drew the sleeves tightly across her arms, while the slit in the skirt completely sealed up, making it far less practical and oppressive, yet reflected the pensive thoughts that churned behind her scrutinizing eyes.

In deference to the diversion they had just enjoyed and in light of the obligations she had as queen, she felt inclined to cover up as much as possible.

"How does this look?" she asked, flaring her arms out.

The shadow's response was delayed as two pale eyes caught errant slivers of moonlight, showing that while he was trying to fulfill his duty as her fashion advisor and had previously been engrossed by her game, his mind had suddenly been somewhere else.

"An unfortunate revision," Yasha replied, settling down and letting out a quiet sigh, "Yet it does not matter what length you wear it, or the shape of the seam. You are beautiful, and will unavoidably take their breath away."

"Don't think you can sweet talk your way out of this. I really need to know how it looks. This is an important reception," she complained, frowning at the thought of the impending gathering in the great hall. It had been so abrupt and so vague that she barely even knew how to respond. All she knew was that the regent had insisted she come, and that she dress appropriately.

She didn't know exactly what he meant by the second part.

He began watching her fidget, her dress changing to any number of lengths, though not as playful as before. She was now taking this serious, which enforced a polite silence on him. He didn't quite understand her mood, but found renewed interest in the flashes of her white skin, the way her red lips twisted and pouted, and the turmoil in her blue eyes. This spell of charming desperation made her whimper and groan, and he found himself entranced by every moment of it.

"If you would like my true opinion, I would advise that you wear it as a queen should," he suddenly suggested.

"Oh? And how exactly should a queen wear it?" she asked with a smirk.

"Any way she sees fit," he replied.

His practical suggestion made her sigh. "That's not very helpful."

After another spate of anxiously trying to adjust the dress and painfully examining every aspect of her appearance, she was settled on a more formal neckline and sleeves, once more feeling a pit in her stomach as she thought of the regent's warning. He was usually so straightforward with her. This vague reference to her appearance made her nervous, and she even considered putting her hair back up into a bun, though even just lifting her braid back up reminded her of the person she once was. She felt she had come too far to step backwards.

"I'm really not looking forward to this. For some reason, I have a bad feeling," she admitted as she knit her hands in front of her to try and give off a practiced, regal appearance.

The person she saw in the mirror made her frown.

"Then do not go," he said, once more offering a simplified solution to her problem.

"I can't do that," she frowned, "This is the regent."

"And you are the queen," he reminder her.

Elsa sighed again. "Try to understand, Yasha. Regent Stenson is one of Arendelle's most trusted nobles, and my closest advisor. He was my father's best friend and steward of the kingdom until I came of age. He's also one of the few that knew about my powers from the beginning. I can't refuse his request," she explained, feeling the weight of her own words.

Incensed by her continuing anxiety, he grunted softly and stepped out from the shadows, emerging into the starlight and leaning back against the frame of her balcony doors. His eyes wandered out to the kingdom beyond as his head rested against the wood. "A shame. Had you done so, I would have been able to refuse as well," he mused.

Elsa gasped. That was something she hadn't been aware of. "The regent invited you?"

"He did," Yasha replied, looking back to the confusion in her face. It only reassured him that the dread they shared wasn't just his imagination. His instincts appeared to be correct. "I am as surprised as you are. I do not know why they want an outsider to attend."

She frowned. It was easy to get dragged into an argument about his place in Arendelle, and she was already too troubled to make an enemy of him. Instead, she played the paramour and walked over, wanting to placate his concerns, but also be close for a moment. "Maybe it's a good sign. Maybe they're starting to see you not as an outsider, but as someone that belongs in here," she offered with a smile, "Like I do."

"I wish I shared your expectations of the world," he remarked solemnly.

Sensing his slipping mood, she stepped closer and took his hands, feeling his warmth. For a moment, she mused at how her past self would have reacted to the scene, when she hated him and fought him and nearly killed him. Now, she couldn't imagine a day without him, and marveled at the effect his simple touch had on her, for it felt like it could defeat even her strongest magic, even as he no longer had the benefit of the FireHeart. "I know this has been hard recently, but it won't always be this way. The day will come when we don't have to hide behind curtains and slip through cracked doors," she said, smiling softly and trying to help him imagine such a beautiful world, "Someday, we'll be able to be together in the way we want, without the whispers and without the talk."

"Now, I also wish for your reveries," he replied, though he visibly relaxed at the attention. Her smile warmed as she saw him give in, and she slowly stretched up to kiss him softly across his cheek.

"Be patient," she whispered, "You're not the only one who wants this without any strings attached. I'm the queen. I'll figure out how to make it work."

His pale gray eyes stayed on her, searching her for the source of her confidence. Despite the many skills he wielded and the vast experience he had of living in the cold world, being in love with her in a kingdom that wouldn't allow it was like nothing he had ever been prepared for. Kings and princes of countless kingdoms flowed through Arendelle's port, each making a case to claim the elusive hand of the infamous Snow Queen. Whispers flowed of an unwed queen, with currents constantly pulling her away from him, despite his own royal bloodline from a king he despised. Somewhere in her kingdom, cast strongly behind shadows and closed doors, were endless excuses why they couldn't be together, leaving them to nurture the love they found on the path to the FireHeart in secret, known only to a very few.

Yet their love burned brightly in spite of the crusade against them.

Despite the impending engagement, Yasha fanned his hand across her back and pulled her closer, wanting to deny the tyrannical world a bit longer. Just the simple act made her heart race and offer little resistance, with her arms tucked in tight and her fingers playing over the line of his chin. Her blue eyes appealed to him, but she knew it wasn't the time to be losing themselves in the moment they had found.

"We have to go, before you tempt me anymore to ignore the regent's invitation," she said hotly, patting him softly across the shoulders and hoping he would be strong enough to let her go.

"It is only one reception. Who would notice our absence?" he replied, though she wasn't sure if he was being playful or serious, as both prospects made it nearly impossible to tear away from his arms. She would have gladly incurred the wrath of the regent if it meant spending a quiet night with him, though the anxiety she had for the evening lingered and reminded her of the importance of her attendance.

For some reason, she felt she had to be there.

"Go," she ordered, then returned his playful mood with a weak smile of her own, "Before I call my guards and tell them there's a kidnapper in my chambers."

The call to his criminal past made him smirk slightly, but ultimately loosen his arms with a reserved breath, disappointed by his own failure to seduce her. "Yes, my queen," he relented, giving in to the false demands and backing out onto her balcony, their hands sliding slowly away. She watched as he vaulted himself up onto the stone railing, standing inches from the sheer drop the rocky fjord below, his feet scraping over the stony edge.

As it always did, seeing him standing there made her breath stutter, and she once more felt the utter terror that he should fall.

"Yasha," she suddenly blurted and it made him turn.

At once, she remembered that he had disappeared over that cliff many times, taking the secret path that only he knew, only to return again to her the next time she longed for him. That security made a smile finally break through her troubles, and she gave him the most alluring look.

"Don't be late."

He knew this wasn't a warning about the reception, but for the time after the kingdom would fall asleep and give them those few quiet moments when they could be together. His eyes affectionately upon her, he repeated himself, though her heart fluttered at the echo, and she marveled how he could project so much more depth on the exact same melody of words.

"Yes, my queen."

He suddenly stepped back and fell into the night, becoming nothing more than wind that gusted through her now lonely chambers. Once more, she felt the overwhelming desire to run over and see how he managed to escape her secluded balcony, but she stayed where she was, leaving him his secrets and the way they made her heart race. One day, she would find out how he reached the most guarded place in the castle with such ease.

For the moment, she was satisfied that he knew how to return.

The chiming of the clock in her room signaled that she had to leave as well, and her hands went to grab the handles of her balcony doors and pull them shut against the cool night.

Pausing, she smiled and let her fingers slip away from them.

Leaving the doors wide open, Elsa turned and left her chambers, heading towards the reception and feeling her premonitions fall away to the fond thoughts she was having about him, and the night they would share after her duties had finally been attended to. As she walked over the crossing lines cast by the starlight through the plated windows of her castle, she was lost in the memory of her waiting shadow, singing quietly to herself, and utterly unaware of just how pervasive the forces were that were already in motion to break them apart.


	2. As in Light, Darken Woes

**II**

As In Light, Darken Woes

The reception in the hall was a sea of people in fine clothes, talking around fine food and drink and listening to the pleasant drone of fine music, all while Yasha stood outside, his face dark and hands clenched at his sides. Beside him was a guard of Arendelle, his face equally stern and his hand clasped tightly on the large spear he carried. A heavy air hung between them, displaced from the shrill laughter and polite chatter coming from the heart of the party. The guard took great care to stay out of sight of the party and whispering to him, each word seeming to foul his expression further. The young prince stared into the sea of laughing faces, this crowd of noble men and women he was slated to join, but his attention was solely on the news that ignited his blood, though he was silent and attentive until the man finished his report, signaled by the guard leaning back and looking to him expectantly.

"What do we do, my king?" he asked.

Yasha looked to him sharply, tired of hearing the myriad of titles flowing from the mouths of the people of Fria. Had he not been so disturbed by the report, he would have rebuked him, even knowing it was pointless. Instead, he had to concentrate on the information that had soured the mood that was recently so sweet from the lips of his beloved Elsa.

"You are sure that they specifically attacked our people?" he demanded.

"It was a trade caravan of our people only. Even the guards were of Fria," the guard replied, reflecting the same anger. "The facts cannot be refuted."

The young prince bristled wildly. "What foul deeds are these?" he seethed, looking into the reception once more.

For some reason, he felt infuriated by their laughing faces.

"My king?" the guard implored.

Shaking his head, Yasha realized that he didn't have the time for this, as he had already delayed his arrival to the reception for far too long. "Return to your duties. Tell any of our people that they are to be extra cautious when traveling," he ordered, though watched as it failed to allay the guard's concerns. Yasha reflected anger in his eyes, finding ample motivation to resolve the matter by becoming the unrestricted exile he had so recently been. "And tell them I will find whoever is responsible for these attacks, and not even hellfire will compare to the reprisal I will bring upon them."

The ominous words finally appeased the old soldier and his eyes burned with loyalty, though not to the uniform he now wore. Yasha saw that unwavering loyalty and winced, then waved him off. "Go now. Attend to your duties," he sighed, turning back to the reception as the guard saluted him as a guard from Fria would, then disappeared from his side.

Yasha spat a furious breath, trying to cool himself as he pulled at the restrictive collar of his formal attire. Being wrapped up like a party favor only irritated him more, while being surrounded by so many people without having his dagger was something he could never get used to. Taking a deep, exhuming breath, the young prince tried once more to straighten his fancy coat and prepare himself to step back into the foreign world of Elsa's kingdom, where shadows spoke instead of moved and battles were fought with subtlety instead of swords.

After being announced, he marched into the reception, where all eyes shifted and it appeared the whole of attendance had been waiting for him.

The reaction nervously stalled him at the doorway.

"Ah, it seems our esteemed guest from Fria has finally arrived. I think we may now get started," said an older man in the finest clothes, and even finer company. Standing next to the queen and Princess Anna, he gestured to Yasha to approach and stand to the side of them, in order to witness the proceedings at hand.

"My apologies for being late, Regent Stenson," Yasha said, bowing in performance and then following his hand to the place that was set aside for him. As he passed, he noticed Anna giving him a small wave under the regal glances of the attendees and he gave her a slight smile, though he was then disturbed to find that Kristoff wasn't at her side. For some reason, that fact stuck out strongly in his mind as he settled into place and turned his full attention on the regent.

Regent Stenson was a stately man. His hair was streaked with white and his eyes were wise with age. He wasn't as plump as many of the older nobles, but he was well-attended in his duties to the kingdom and his medals and epaulettes were made with the finest gold and silver. An ancient friend of the late king, he had effectively raised Elsa to be the queen, while holding the kingdom in his hand until her coronation. Despite stepping back to see the young queen rule, he had considerable esteem among the other nobles, his name near-synonymous with the throne, and he commanded the presence of the entire room, an impressive fact considering that the radiant Elsa stood right next to him.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court, guests, and of course, our beloved queen and princess, I'm both ashamed and delighted in calling you here tonight, and on such short notice. Ashamed that my reasons are so selfish as to bring you all here, but delighted that they could do so anyway," he bellowed, then slowly gestured to a young man before him, who was dressed in the uniform of the Royal Guard, but brighter and commanding far more authority. "My son, Johann, has most recently been appointed as a captain of the Royal Guard, the youngest to do so in recent memory. While it may be self-regarding of me to brandish the court's attention on such an accomplishment, I hope you will help me celebrate this wonderful achievement, and this addition to the ranks of officers that see to it that Arendelle remains a safe and beautiful place for many years to come."

As his words fell away, the reception erupted into applause. As she clapped, Elsa found it strange that the regent would arrange such grandeur around the appointment, as he had always been an understated and simple man. She could barely remember a time where he had lavished such attention on his only son. Yet nowhere was his influence so apparent in that roaring applause that filled the hall, brought on by a single gesture of this venerable man.

His hands raised, the regent then quieted everyone and smiled. "Now, my very young son has decided that he wishes to address the court, as well as our young queen. It appears he has had his eye on her for quite a long time, you see. Imagine, a son of mine being so presumptuous!" he continued, which drew a wave of laughter from the crowd and an embarrassed smile on the young man's face.

"Father, please," Johann whined, then gave Elsa a guilty look.

The brazen admission made her smile meekly and she tucked her chin down in practiced form.

"Well, as I'm not one to stand in the way of a young heart, I'll give your gracious attention over to this new captain of the Guard," Regent Stenson continued, then bowed away to let Johann take the floor.

Young, tall and strong, Johann was a younger image of the regent, with his uniform neatly pressed and his ceremonial sword hanging at his side. He was handsome and vibrant, with neatly trimmed brown hair and the piercing green eyes of someone who knew what he wanted, and how to get it. The young man took a moment to look around the hall, smiling widely and continuing to bow gracious to their dying applause.

With a single glance at Elsa, he then looked back out to the crowd, eager to begin his performance. "Friends, noblemen, I stand before you a newly-appointed captain of Arendelle's honorable Guard, eager to serve and eager to protect, but honest in my duties and committed to my cause. Yes, I am young, but I have earned the respect of my fellow soldiers, and look to my youth not as a hindrance, but as an opportunity to serve Arendelle for many, many years," he called, appearing to enjoy every moment of the attention.

"My father is correct. I love the queen," he continued, gesturing to Elsa but not looking back for her reaction, "As I love Arendelle. And I will protect the queen, as I protect Arendelle. With my heart, my duty and if needed, my very life."

The passionate words were wooing the crowd and Johann finally turned back to Elsa, who was blushing and trying to swallow his bravado. Her reaction seemed to appease him and he slowly stepped towards her, finally speaking to her instead of the world around them.

"Queen Elsa, Princess Anna, I have sworn to you with my life, my heart and my honor. My sword is yours to command. Point to any horizon, and let me be there for you," he continued, stepping slowly to Elsa and finally dropping to one knee before her. Taking her hand, he gazed deeply at her with his green eyes and spoke in soft, powerful tones. "Pick any mountain, and above it, I will raise your flag."

To finish off the recital, he placed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, and it caused the whispers of the crowd to thunder through the room. Elsa was taken for a moment by his charisma and the tone he commanded in the court. She was keen on the symmetry of the union between the regent's son and the king's daughter, and why the regent might put on such a show. The only thing that seemed to break her of this spell was the passing moment when she caught his expression and the temperament of his intentions.

Oddly, she had felt that even as he paraded around, calling out his desires to obey her every whim, he never really appeared to be looking at her.

After the rousing display of the young princeling and with the roaring of the crowd dying to a whisper, the reception broke apart into a sea of chatting nobility and Elsa was instantly captured by Johann, where she was forced to entertain him by protocol and expectation. Passing spectators hailed their approval, ceremoniously greeting the queen and the fresh captain, while Johann proudly flaunted his place at her side, while Elsa tried to navigate the tides around her. The crowd flowed around them like the will of the kingdom itself, with whispers and glances, and they had been presented at the center of the room for an eternity.

At least, that is what it felt like for Yasha.

As was common for these parties, he stood alone, avoided by most others. A man's past was often with him, and his was often at the lips of every person in the royal court. That usually didn't bother him, but seeing Elsa interviewing this bold captain was grinding away his usually cool demeanor, especially as the crowd chanted their endorsements. He stood as a lightning rod among storm clouds, giving of an oppressive aura and driving people even further away than usual.

That was until Anna wandered up next to him, fearlessly cutting through his mood and casually clutching her hands behind her back in defiance of his fiery temper. "Wow, you look like you just found a badger in your pants," she remarked.

He was fuming and glaring forward with eyes very much like the ones she had known before. His mood was despotic. "She is laughing. She is actually laughing with him," he grumbled, stiffly crossing his arms in a vain effort to control his mood. Seeing Elsa so entertained was maddening, more than he ever expected. The air around him was sweltering and heavy, and he didn't even acknowledge Anna's arrival beyond the ranting that seemed aptly directed to her.

The princess looked to her sister, watching her go through the steps. A smirk crossed her lips. This wasn't anything new to her and the truth behind Elsa's polite interaction with the young captain made her feel like teasing her brooding partner a bit.

"Yep, I haven't seen Elsa laugh like that in a while. Makes you wonder what they're talking about, huh?" she noted.

"She never laughs like that with me. Am I not amusing or witty? Is he that much funnier than I?" he asked incredulously.

Anna looked to him slowly. "You?" she said, then slowly looked back with an evasive look on her face. "Oh sure, you're a barrel of laughs."

He scoffed, becoming more animated as he vented his anger. This aggravating feeling was eating away at him, taking away his usual focus. It had only been moments since he had held her in his arms and played their sweet games, yet he suddenly felt like she was a million miles away and being carried further away with every passing moment.

"They might as well be singing and dancing around the walls of the castle," he glowered.

The remark made a guilty smirk cross her face. "Now you're overreacting."

By now, his ranting had melted down into angry murmuring and he didn't even seem to recognize that she was there. For her part, she continued to watch Elsa courted by this handsome officer, her face showing the slightest bit of amusement by the effect it had on the usually stoic Yasha.

Her comments came rolling over the top of his grumbling.

"She's totally faking it."

"He is kind of cute, though."

"Maybe it's the uniform."

"Still, she's totally faking it."

"At least, I think she's faking it."

"Maybe she's not faking it."

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Her attention had come back to him, and she stabbed her hand on her hip, watching him continue to brood. At first, it had been amusing to watch him squirm, but as he continued to growl and murmur, she began to feel sorry for him, seeing how much he agonized over something so shallow. Inwardly, she mused that he sometimes seemed so romantic and intuitive in his courtship of Elsa, yet in other arenas he acted like a love-struck adolescent, wildly emotional and prone to fretting over the most meaningless things.

She wasn't sure if that was cute, or sad.

"You just lit the Duchess of Pancake's hair on fire," she informed him.

The remark finally made him break from his trance and gradually look around for the said inferno, something that made her smirk even more for his gullibility. As he didn't see any sign of his carelessness, nor could he remember ever meeting a Duchess of Pancake, he suddenly realized the childish nature of the prank and looked to her, grousing.

"You are not being helpful, Anna," he huffed.

"And you're definitely jealous," she countered, watching the word make him scoff. His reaction made her all the more entitled. "Look, I've seen Elsa do this routine a hundred times, with all sorts of princes and dolphins and who knows what else," she explained, drawing his attention to Elsa and suddenly beginning to mimic everything she did, even down to the words she was speaking and the position of her hands.

Anna made a very convincing Elsa.

"She flicks out her hand, talking about how much she's heard about them. _Oh, I've heard about this. You say it was you?_ She laughs a little, covering her mouth politely with her hand. _You don't say?_ She laughs a little more, though never can quite hide the rolling of her eyes when they keep talking about themselves. _How impressive!_ She laughs, and hides, and rolls, but she's totally faking it and probably wondering where I am to come drag her away from this guy."

Yasha was incredibly impressed. She mirrored Elsa's every move and it gave credibility to her claims. He still had trouble dealing with the genuine look of amusement on her face, but his heart was willing to trust in her, regardless of how enchanted Elsa appeared to be.

"And you know all of this because...?" he asked.

"Because I'm her sister. I know everything about her," she beamed brightly, nodding firmly as she crossed her arms over her chest. It was amazing that she had to keep reminding him, but she felt even better about herself when she thought at how not even her beloved Prince Yasha had such insights on her.

When it came to Elsa, she was the subject matter expert.

"These days, anyway. That magic thing? Totally took me by surprise. Well, I knew about it when I was a kid, but you know how that magic stuff goes. I mean, of course you do. Who else would know better than you? Elsa, I guess. Wow, she's really going all out with this one," she suddenly ranted, losing herself in the intimate place she had between them.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his tired eyes and feeling his head and heart throb. It was comforting to know that she was on his side and that her assessment seemed invincible, but even her arguments had trouble dispelling the burning feeling in his chest and the way it ravaged his mood.

"All I see is her laughing," he admitted.

Anna shrugged and finally decided to stop having fun at his expense. Seeing him so despondent was starting to make her feel guilty. "Look, standing here and glaring at that Johnny guy isn't going to make anything better. If it's Elsa you want, you're looking at the wrong person," she advised, patting him on the shoulder softly.

The troubled prince frowned, trying to believe and let her dispel his fears. Once more, he was reminded at how Anna was far wiser than she let on to the world and that he felt privileged to have her as a confidant, something that seemed almost laughable considering how their relationship started. Even as he spoke to her in the wake of Elsa's performance, he was feeling better, and he was glad that even though not many spoke to him within the walls of the castle, the ones that did were genuine and sincere.

He was glad that Anna was his friend.

Seeing that he was feeling better, she patted him across the arm softly, equally glad that this brooding, ignorant-about-love prince was the one that had captured the heart of her sister.

"I've seen her act like that a hundred times, but the only time I've seen her actually smile is when she's with you. So try not to get all gloomy again," she continued, then regained a bit of her humor as she elbowed him playfully, "Though you could always makes plans to kidnap her or something. It wouldn't be the first time, right?"

The remark made him smirk, but he felt the tension bleed from him. There were very few that could get him to relax when his mood was hot, but Anna was the most proficient at it. Once more, he was reminded at how fond he was of her.

"I will keep the kidnapping option as a last resort," he conceded.

Being drawn back to the center of the room, he looked back to the smile Elsa wore and let out a slow breath. It was still bothering him, but her counsel had helped as it often did.

"You are sure that I have nothing to fear?" he asked.

Anna smiled. "Why do you ask me questions of which you already know the answer?" she replied in an accent similar to his, repeating one of his own of his favorite responses.

He let out a light chuckle, looking to his feet in defeat. As much as he cherished his romantic love with Elsa, he equally cherished his powerful connection with Anna, so much so that he desperately feared to ever lose it.

Idly, he remembered that he actually had two very good reasons to fight for his place in Arendelle.

"Thank you, Anna," he said thoughtfully as he lifted his eyes to her, and it made a slight blush run over her face.

Sometimes, she was also reminded at how much she enjoyed her strange bond with him. "Don't mention it," she said, happy that in spite of Kristoff being denied an invitation to the reception, she was able to stand with at least one person who she could relax with. It made the night bearable.

"But don't get all cozy just because you think you've reeled her in. If you really want Elsa, you need to be prepared to fight. A lot, from the looks of it," she warned, though she knew that he was the last person she had to lecture about fighting for the demands of his heart or the resolve needed to succeed.

At her advice, he slowly looked back to Elsa. She was still entertaining Johann and the crowd continued to flow around them. It was Anna's words and Anna's presence that empowered him, and made him break the fears that had strangled him. With only Elsa in his eyes, he took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the rest of the world fade away, until it was only her he could see.

"I intend to."

The resolve in his voice made her nod and stand at his side, completely dedicated in supporting the both of them until they finally found the love they deserved.

"Good," she said.

As he gazed to Elsa and Johann with the resolution renewed in his eyes, and with Anna at his side, the situation didn't seem so dire, yet he continued to fight the burning in his chest. These feelings were almost entirely new to him, as he had never been in love before Elsa. His mind had eased considerably, enough to make a sudden realization furrow his brow and he slowly looked back to his royal companion, trying to digest exactly what she had said to him when she first walked up.

"A badger in my pants?" he cawed.

Anna had nearly forgotten about it, but his delayed reaction made her burst into giggles and nod, unable to hide the full width of her grin. "Yeah, I heard Kristoff say it. Isn't it hilarious?" she cheered. The image stuck powerfully with him and his expression melted. Just the way it hung between them sweetened the air and they both shared a moment of laughing together among the practiced recitals of the crowd around them.


	3. Deny Thy Father

**III**

Deny Thy Father

"_If Anna doesn't get here soon, I'm going to go crazy," _thought Elsa as she continued to listen to Johann talk. Her face was getting sore all of the smiling and she could barely resist the urge to excuse herself from the eager young captain, though she had yet to find an adequate reason. She thought on how he really was like his father in his love of talk and that if she let him continue, he would go on for hours with little regard for her suffering. He was particularly intent on keeping her attention on him, and she wasn't oblivious to the way that the rest of the crowd was focused on their exchange.

Idly, she wondered if they would notice if she turned his tongue into a block of ice.

"So I subdued the brute with a quick show of the blade, you see, and he quickly lost interest in…" he boasted, pleased at how she hung on his every word and offered nothing but the slightest of responses. He would have gone on for hours more, had they not been interrupted when a guard briskly approached them, bowing to the queen before addressing the captain with a salute.

Johann appeared annoyed, but hid behind a roguish smile. "Ah, forgive me, Your Highness. A captain's work is never done."

"No no, take your time. I'll be right here when you're done," she replied, gesturing her approval of the interruption. As he leaned over and listened to the guard's whispers, she rolled her eyes and stretched her jaw, glad to have a moment to break the mask on her face and look around for her wayward sister. She found her standing next to Yasha, both of them watching her in her cage. While he wore a brooding expression, Anna had noticed her break and gave her a devious little wave, the smile on her face showing just how entertained she was. It was reminiscent of the time when Elsa had pawned her off onto the wily Duke of Weselton, and she glared at her sister and this delayed measure of revenge.

She was going to get her back for this.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," Johann suddenly said, returning to their chat.

Elsa plastered a thin smile on her face as she snapped back to him. "No, it's all right. I was just waiting to hear some more of your fascinating stories," she replied as she stiffened back up.

"Another time, perhaps. I was just informed that my father…the regent would like to speak with you," he said, gesturing out to the balcony, where a lone figure was waiting under the starlight.

While she was relieved to be given a way out, the invitation struck her coldly and she looked out to the waiting figure, her heart beating with the same dread she had felt before. Normally, the regent would have simply sought her out in the crowd and bantered with her among the other nobles of the kingdom. To see her alone meant he had something on his mind.

Nervously, she looked over to Anna and Yasha, as if they could somehow disperse the anxiety she felt. Her face had paled.

"Your Highness?" Johann repeated, noticing where her eyes had gone.

Elsa snapped out of her gaze, blushing slightly in embarrassment. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Johann," she said politely, then gracefully passed by him to go out onto the balcony. She felt uneasy as she passed through the crowds, hearing them whisper of engagements and betrothals, while staring at the regent's back.

Even when she stepped outside and felt the cooler air, her anxiety remained. The pit in her stomach grew deeper with every step she took. "Regent," she said softly as she approached, smiling in spite of her mood and bowing respectfully.

The older man finally turned and returned her smile, though there was a scolding tone to his voice as he reproached her playfully. "A queen bows to no one in her own castle. I thought I taught you that a long time ago."

She flushed a bit, but didn't lose her smile. "You did, but I can't ignore all of the others things you taught me as well," she replied. "_Always respect those that have earned it."_

The regent accepted her response with a smile and nodded his approval. "Well met," he said, then placed his large hands on her shoulders as he looked her over, appearing much like a proud father enamored with the grace of his beautiful daughter, "You're looking well, Elsa. But I sense you're troubled. Is there something wrong?" he asked.

In spite of her premonitions, the feel of his hands relaxed her and she shook her head. "No, nothing wrong exactly. Just..." she started, then saw the warm look on his face and decided to dismiss all of the unseen fears residing in her heart. "It's nothing. I guess I'm tired, is all."

"Perhaps you're not getting enough sleep at night. Proper rest is very important. The queen cannot afford to stay up all night playing with shadows, can she?" he remarked, his eyes losing a bit of their warmth to reveal an underlying charge underneath.

Elsa's face burned brightly and her eyes fell. She wondered if he was finally bringing up the subject of her secret rendezvous with her prince and just how much he knew about them, yet as he didn't address the subject directly, she felt hurried to try and appease him, if only to keep that subject quietly tucked into her heart.

"You're right. I'll try and take your advice to heart and get a proper night's sleep," she replied timidly.

He continued to glare at her sternly, assessing her every reply. "Yes, see that you do," he simply said.

For the longest time, she continued to avoid his eyes and suffer in the silence that consumed them. His opinion of her mattered so much that she felt ashamed to have him reproach her, even as his words had been subtle and seemingly benign. He was her teacher, her guardian and, in some ways, her father. While he could never replace the late king and he was never as gentle with her as her real father, he had always shown her real affection and genuine love, even in light of her cursed powers. The fact that he never held them against her had always drawn her towards him, even though he had been strict in teaching how to rule her kingdom. The silence that lingered between them now was deafening, and she was eager to try and dispel it.

"So, your son is a captain of the Guard now. That must be very exciting for you," she offered, finally raising her eyes in an attempt to lighten to mood.

The change of subject seemed to please him and he looked beyond her to the subject of their discussion. "Oh yes. Johann is the finest man in Arendelle. Trained by the greatest of our soldiers. Well-versed in music and the arts. A warrior and poet," he beamed brightly, then gave her a sideward glance, "You'd do well to notice such things, I think."

"I noticed how charming and pleasant he was a moment ago. He certainly inherited your ability to speak, Regent," she said, biting her tongue slightly.

While this subject seemed like safe ground, the regent's eyes lingered on her and his warmth bled away. Courtesy was no longer enough to keep him affable and he decided to press forward with his agenda. "Perhaps that vaunted ability to speak will help me on the real reason I asked you out here, Elsa," he said, breaking the mood she was trying to build.

"The real reason?" she repeated.

"It's about this man you've brought back from Fria," he said, once more scrutinizing her every reaction.

Elsa winced. "You mean..." she began, nearly speaking the name as affectionately as she was used to, though realizing that this wasn't the time to be thinking of him as her suitor, especially as she felt the gravity of the regent's gaze upon her.

"Prince Yasha," she finished, using his official title to authorize him.

The regent smirked lightly at her hesitation and the way she quickly changed to present him like a bashful daughter to her disapproving father. "Yes, that one," he said, then looked out over the kingdom, a sigh escaping his pursed lips. "You were unusually bold to invite him and his people to come to Arendelle without consulting any of your advisors. Such things require careful planning and a certain level of vetting to make sure we don't happen upon any…unsavory elements." The remark made her frown and she knew that when he generally referred to her advisors, he really meant only one in particular – him. But that didn't lessen the passion in which she defended her decision, or the prince in question.

"They lost their home, Regent. I couldn't just leave them there, especially when it was my magic that froze over their kingdom," she explained, though the part about her magic was somewhat of a lie. In truth, it had been the enigmatic Lind that had turned Fria into a sealed, frozen tundra, but the only others that knew about it were Yasha and Anna, the two she held closest in her heart. She was adamant about keeping it that way until she knew more about the riddle that was Lind. "Arendelle has plenty of room for them, and they've been working very hard since coming here to contribute. Our own people gain more from their presence than without it. I stand by my decision to ask them to join us."

"The benefit of their artisans isn't in doubt," he noted, knowing everything she said was true. The goods produced by the skilled craftsmen of Fria had made Arendelle even more prosperous, as well as even more secure as the quality of their weapons was unmatched. He had no issues with the benefits of their forges.

His concern was far more personal and far more intimate to her.

"I'm more concerned about this criminal you've allowed to stay in the castle," he stated heavily.

A shaky breath slipped from her lips and she had suspected all along that this was why he wanted to speak with her privately. This had always been about her and her prince. "I don't think that's fair. Yasha did what he did for the good of his people, something we should admire, not condemn. And I pardoned him of all of his crimes," she said, defiant against the way he spoke of him.

"A piece of paper cannot wipe clean the sins of a man, or give you adequate cause to map what lies in his heart. He's dangerous, even without these powers of his," he replied dismissively.

"Regent, he's a good person, honorable and kind. And he is a prince. Why shouldn't we treat him as such?" she argued, wishing more than anything he would see Yasha as the person she had come to adore. "He has so many fine qualities. You just haven't gotten to know him."

He bristled at the look in her eyes. "Anna says the same things," he remarked, obviously bothered by how both she and her sister spoke the same language when discussing him, "I find it troubling that both of Adgar's daughters have such warm feelings towards a man who broke into this castle, kidnapped the princess at knifepoint and then tried to murder you. Is this the kind of man you should be allowing to sleep within our walls? Is this the type of man you want around your people?"

Elsa's hands were clenched at her sides, as she didn't like it when people spoke badly about him. It was hard enough to try and help him to fit in among the other nobility of the kingdom without the unfair chatter spreading around like wildfire.

Sometimes, she felt like it was only her and Anna that defended him. "That's not who he really is," she countered, trying to smother her fiery tone. "At first, I thought the same things. After he kidnapped Anna, I was so angry that I almost did something terrible to him. But then I had enough time to see the person he is underneath."

"Regent, he sacrificed everything for his people. His freedom, his powers, even his life. How isn't that proof of the man he really is?"

"Is this why you think you've fallen in love with him?" he asked without recourse.

The blunt question hit her like a slap to the face, and she was unable to answer in the same straightforward manner. It physically made her take a step back. "I..." she stuttered, feeling her heart twist painfully in her chest.

Her reaction was all he needed and the regent sighed.

"Elsa, I swore to your father that I would always look after you and your sister, and try to guide you when I think you're making mistakes. It's bad enough that Anna has some man and his reindeer ringing wedding bells in her ears, but you are the queen. The world is a different place for you," he counseled, watching the way it tore away at the sparkles in her eyes and made her mouth pull back in that historic grimace of fear and doubt. "You have to do what's right for Arendelle and this supposed prince is not what's right for Arendelle, or for you. He's the mistake that I'm trying to help you to avoid."

"That's..." she once more tried, though again her voice failed. Her head shaking, she knew everything he said was wrong, even if it was the way it was supposed to be. Long ago, she had been instructed that sometimes a queen had to do what was good for the sake of her kingdom, regardless of the beating of her heart. It had been Regent Stenson that taught her then as well and a small part of her heart had accepted that one day she might have to marry someone not for love, but for the good of Arendelle. At the time, it had seemed a sad and distant reality, but now she had found someone that she loved, regardless of his past or the unfavorable whispers of him blowing around the castle.

Despite the wishes and words of the regent, if giving up Yasha was a queen's duty to her kingdom, she wasn't sure she could be the queen he expected her to be.

"You need to do your duty to your kingdom. You're certainly old enough to be thinking of your future, of Arendelle's future, but there are far better suitors than a prince with no castle. Some will even look beyond anything that's been done to you, and marry you in spite of the curse. It's what your father and I always wanted," he continued, soothingly trying to assuage her fears and point her in the right direction.

Elsa let out a choking gasp. The regent's woven comments made a pit open up in her stomach. The secret moments she had spent with Yasha were something she cherished, and she had never really been able to describe them with mere words. To hear him subtly refer to them as something that had somehow befouled her made her body shiver and her hands grasp at her arms in a vain attempt to control it.

For something so true, she had no idea why his attack on her love for Yasha was so painful, or why it made the air around her start to chill. Even in the relative warmth of the summer evening, ice fluttered in and out of existence around her and she closed in on herself, trying to wade through the truth of her feelings and the advice of her most trusted mentor.

The regent felt the cold air and watched his breath start to make clouds at his lips, but it did little to temper his aura. Unlike others, he didn't recoil at the effects of her magic, but rather accepted it as part of his world, as he always had.

"Take my advice to heart, Elsa. I only care for what's best for you and for Arendelle," he said solemnly, stepping past her with a strangely satisfied look on his face and patting her on the shoulder as he went to return to the reception.

"I know you'll do the right thing."

* * *

Standing alone on the balcony, Elsa had spent a great deal of time thinking about what the regent had said. It was chilling how something she knew was wrong could linger in her mind and her heart, making its persistence the justification for its presence. Doubts were swallowing her as she asked herself why she didn't just dismiss his concerns and embrace the feelings of love, the feelings she had once thought infallible. Those doubts began to spread, making her come back to the regent's cold words, and how they cut right through her.

"_Is that why you think you've fallen in love with him?"_

Suddenly, she began to question whether she had actually fallen in love with Yasha, or simply dreamt she had.

"Are you all right?" a voice said from behind her, and she was startled as she turned back to find the subject of her heartbreak standing at the doorway.

"Yasha?" she whimpered, her voice choked a bit. He was both the first and last person she wanted to see and she noticed he saw the tears that had been terrorizing her eyes.

Quickly, she turned back to the night and ran her hands up and down her arms, embracing the villainous urge she had to avoid him. "I…I want to be alone right now," she said quietly.

Yasha strangled a breath through pursed lips. "I do not have to be your sister to know that the regent upset you, or to know when to deny your wishes for solitude," he replied, walking out onto the balcony towards her, but giving her some space.

She slowly wiped the tears from her cheeks and sniffled. "It's nothing."

"A powerful nothing," he remarked.

A response typical of him made a small sigh of relief take some of the tension away, but the underlying tragedy still remained and she stubbornly tried to deny him. Secretly, she was happy that he didn't go. "The regent has made it clear that he doesn't approve of us being together," she revealed, her voice sad and her shoulders hanging low, "He thinks I need to focus on doing what's right for Arendelle, and find an appropriate suitor."

The news made his eyes narrow and he inherited some of her tension. Knowing the kind of influence the regent had, he didn't like that the man was now openly against their secret courtship. It was going to make things very difficult. Yet he remembered Anna's advice, and remembered to keep looking where it mattered most.

"What do you think?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head, her red lips drawn back in a painful grimace and her voice breaking under the weight of her admission. "I don't know," she said, afraid that her uncertainty might offend him. She was fearful that her doubt would drive him away.

"What do you know in your heart?" he asked softly.

His question made a whimper well up in her throat, though it was soon tempered by a forlorn smile. His knack for poetry in simple questions stoked the fire in her chest and she turned, finding strength in his eyes. "That I love you, and that I don't want to stop," she admitted, finding that the admission didn't make her squirm or retreat, but feel comforted. While she imagined that she looked terrible with the tears in her eyes, she had to see him, and even though she felt empowered by the resolution in his eyes, the words of the regent kept beating through her mind and made her retreat slightly.

"But the regent..."

"Is one man. Nothing more," he interrupted, shaking his head at her investment in his authority over her life, "He could not command your heart any more than he could mine."

His persuasions were powerful, though she continued to waver and look to him for support. Seeing her so vulnerable and scared made his own resolve strengthen and he stepped closer, though he still couldn't forget that they were undoubtedly the subject of everyone's attention in the reception. "And my heart tells me that I will not yield in this, Elsa, no matter who wishes otherwise."

"I want to be with you."

Hearing him state it so plainly, she suffered another bitter smile and could barely contain her desire for him. The calling of his heart made her feel his convictions and she suddenly felt as if she could resist the voices around her. "And I want to be with you," she whispered, holding her hand over her beating heart. Also knowing that the entire hall was watching them, she resisted the urge to go forward and feel the safety she would undoubtedly feel in his arms. "But it won't be easy," she warned, still harboring her doubts, "The regent can be stubborn, and incredibly demanding. He's not likely to accept us no matter what we do."

"I am experienced in performing difficult tasks in order to get what I want," he assured her.

The response made her laugh bitterly. She was probably the only person in the world who could truly appreciate that response and was equally the only person who could feel such warmth from it. She found strength in that. "I guess you are," she agreed, then took a breath and carefully stepped even closer, now well beyond the bounds of social safety they had been careful to respect. They were so cautious in keeping up a front around others and trying to hide their wonderful thing in shadows. She knew how much it troubled him, though she was usually good at hiding her own discontent.

Feeling her heart in shambles, she didn't care for appearances at the moment, as long as it allowed her be close when she needed him most.

"Elsa..." he said in a cautionary tone, feeling his back alight with the eyes of an entire kingdom.

Her eyes closed. "Let me be here," she whispered, putting her head forward against his chest but forcing her arms to remain chained at her sides out of fear that wouldn't be able to stop herself from throwing them around him. "Just for a moment."

Letting out a long sigh, he straightened his back and let her do as she pleased, fighting every instinct he had in order to preserve her image. Had common expectation allowed it, he would have put his arms around her and denied anything that sought to harm her. In this bizarre world of acceptance and approval, he found he was totally out of his element and struggling just to stay true to his heart.

Feeling her so close and so far at the same time, he looked up to the stars, trying to find some kind from guidance from them. Though he was confident of the things he was willing to do for her, he burned over the way he was expected to act and how he couldn't do such a simple thing as comfort the one he loved in front of others.

Sometimes, he utterly hated the things he couldn't do for love.


	4. Where Two Fires Meet

**IV**

Where Two Fires Meet

In a dark alley behind the tavern, a man with blood streaming from his nose rocked back into the stone wall, his breathing heavy and his misty eyes full of fear. Before him stood a figure in black robes and a black hood, shadowed from the street behind him and glaring harshly from the darkness. His knees shaking and his face desperate, the man hacked and ran the back of his hand across his mouth, making the blood smear over his face. The booze and adrenaline were soaking his body, and the sickening smell of his own blood was making him gag.

"What do you want from me? I already told you I don't know anything!" he cried, his feet shuffling as he tried to steady his shaky balance.

"That is apparent," the hooded figure replied, "However, you were very eager to gloat about the quality of your merchandise. Where is that certainty now, I wonder?"

From underneath the cloak, a dagger was produced, made of fine quality and marked with the crest of Fria. The man panicked when he saw it, afraid it was going to be the end of him, but the figure suddenly tossed it to the ground between them, his shrouded eyes still glaring from underneath the hood. "I am far more interested in the quantity. Where did you come across such a large amount of these goods?"

The man licked the blood from his lips nervously. As terrified as he was, the information he was demanding was far more dangerous to let spill out into the night.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he wheezed.

"Do not play coy. For many months, the caravans that carry these goods have been attacked. The assailants come and go with the mists, taking all they come across with ruthless efficiency. You obviously have some sort of connection. I want to know who they are and why they attack these merchants," the figure demanded.

The bloody merchant had known getting involved was going to be trouble, but he had expected to be hassled by the Arendelle guards, not being pummeled in the dark by some shaded assailant. Inwardly, he was wondering if the money was worth the trouble. "Look, I don't know anything about that. I get the stuff from a guy who knows a guy. I just sell it, okay? I'm an honest merchant," he pleaded, raising his hand out to try and assuage the figure's wrath.

"Honest merchants do not deal in goods stolen at the price of blood. Perhaps you will be more forthcoming when paying the same price," the figure replied, then moved to convince him further.

Feeling backed up against the wall, the man glanced down at the dagger on the ground, its finely crafted body alluring to him and his current, desperate plight. He wasn't one that went around looking for fights, but the fear caused him to suddenly reach down and grab it, tearing the blade from the sheath and pointing the weapon at the figure, feeling the intoxicating power that it gave him. His hands were shaking and his eyes were filled with fear.

The dark figure stopped and said nothing.

"Stay away!" the merchant roared, "If you come any closer, I'll kill you!"

The figure lingered only a moment, then stepped forward again, ignoring the dagger. Feeling his panic overwhelm his sense of reason, the merchant suddenly thrust the dagger, hopeful the beautiful blade would vanquish the demon and save him. The sloppy thrust was countered when he felt a strong hand clamp down on his wrist and a painful wrenching on his arm. The man soon saw the world whirl around him and felt the hard ground at his back, which made him grunt loudly and feel his breath burst from his twisted lips. Disoriented, he couldn't get back up before he felt his arm wrenched again, making him roll over to his stomach to avoid it from being torn from his shoulder, though he soon found both hands trapped behind his back and he heard the terrifying chime of metal on stone.

He opened his eyes to the dagger, which was stabbed into the ground an inch away from his nose. The agonizing feeling of the figure's knee in his back made him grunt loudly and struggle fearfully.

"I have no patience for games. Tell me about the one you get the weapons from," the figure demanded, his hand holding the dagger tightly into the ground, "Lest I rephrase the question."

Suddenly, the dagger began to heat up and the merchant gasped, looking terrified as the blade began to glow. At first, he thought he was imagining it, but the way his skin began to flare with pain made him flail, now utterly convinced that this hooded figure was something unnatural.

"I don't know any names! They contact me, okay? I take drops in the woods and never meet with them. I just leave the money and take the stuff, I swear!" he cried, trying to pull his face from the searing dagger.

The figure was silent for a moment, brooding under his hood. It wasn't the answer he wanted and his eyes narrowed as the dagger began to glow brighter.

"Have you ever experienced what it feels like to be burned alive?" he growled.

The man struggled again, finding the monster to be more terrifying than the consequences of talking about what he wasn't supposed to talk about. The heat was more than he could bear and he suddenly became more accommodating. "Okay! Okay! I'll tell you! Just get that thing away from me!" he cried, his eyes reflecting the glowing blade. The demon seemed appeased and slowly withdrew the dagger from the ground, relieving the merchant of the heat and letting him catch his breath as it blew across the dusty ground.

Still held tightly in his hand, the dagger continued to glow brightly as a warning, as did the intense look in the hooded figure's eyes.

"Tell me."

"Look, from what I hear, these guys play real rough. If they find out I'm telling you this, I might end up with a knife in my back anyway. But I'll tell you the only thing I know about them, okay?" the man wheezed, licking his lips once more and hoping this would assuage the demon's wrath.

"Kobold."

"Kobold?" the demon repeated, completely lost on its meaning.

"That's what they call themselves. The only thing I've heard is that they're not from around here, and that they sort of wander around, causing trouble all over the countryside. A bad lot, the whole of them," he explained, mainly going off of what he had heard as rumors in the taverns. He hoped it would be enough to buy forgiveness.

"Why are they attacking the caravans from Arendelle?" the figure demanded.

"I don't know! They've never hit anything so big before, never anything that had guards from the castle. Maybe because the goods are worth so much," he cried. "That's all I know, I swear! Look, I'll never do business with them again. Just let me go!"

The demon stewed quietly and was tempted to press him even further, yet seeing how truly terrified he was and the faint smell of urine in the air seemed to shake his resolve to torture the man for all his information, and a slow, depressed breath slipped from the depths of the hood.

Slowly standing and removing his knee from his back, the hooded figure took a step to the side and waved the dagger towards the lighted street beyond, showing that even demons had their compassionate sides.

"Go."

The merchant scrambled to his feet and fled from the alleyway, covered in sweat, mud and blood. In the end, the demon had gotten very little from him and decided that he wouldn't be able to use him to get to this Kobold. Yet it was more than he had learned in the months before, even if it was nothing more than a name. Finding any information, especially this far from Arendelle, was harder than he expected, and he was feeling exhausted from the effort.

Solemnly, he looked to the cooling dagger in his hand, running his fingers of the glowing crest emblazoned on the hilt. It was hot to the touch, yet didn't burn him, and he affectionately let the ridges and lines of the crest work their way into the memory of his finger, reflecting on his new task. This time, it was no tyrant king that enslaved his people. It wasn't the FireHeart that chained them to the ash and fire of the mountain. This time, the danger was silent and unknown, striking from the dark and guided by unseen forces that allowed them to disappear back into the night, never leaving a trace. This danger wasn't magical or mythical, but something far more immortal.

The enemies he sought were merely men, and the dark hearts that drove them.

* * *

Yasha was walking through the halls of the castle at Arendelle, his mind preoccupied and his body exhausted. It had been weeks since learning the name of Kobold, yet even his aggressive investigation had turned up nothing more. The attacks continued in the far reaches of the kingdom, still focusing on the caravans that were populated by the denizens of Fria and the cargo of fine goods they carried. Even when he joined the caravans to try and catch the bandits, they would suspiciously never show, depriving him the chance to deal with them personally.

It was as if someone knew exactly when he would be there to bring retribution for the crimes.

To his further aggravation, the attacks were always met with indifference by the Elsa's court. They remarked how the guards were from Fria and couldn't protect the caravans, as if it were the internal matter of a kingdom that no longer existed. It became a joke, though never spoken outright or in the company of the queen. Elsa wasn't oblivious to the matter, though even as she ordered patrols out to try and find the bandits, they always came back empty-handed, as if something more than the mists were shrouding them.

The situation was infuriating for Yasha. Not only did he have to deal with the regent pressuring Elsa to find a suitor befitting the queen of Arendelle, the attacks against his people were making him short-tempered and easily provoked. Even when he found a few moments alone with her, he was distracted and never really able to relax, something that was straining their relationship. She had been patient with him, though there were times when her frustrations equaled his own and they were forced apart with raised voices and inflamed tempers, threatening the romance they had forged in a time when it needed to be infallible.

It was as if the world they had found on the path to Fria was being torn apart around them.

Walking into a quiet area of the castle, he suddenly was aware of a looming presence at the corners of his eyes. Someone was following him. Strangely, he realized they had been there all along and that he should have been alerted to their presence far sooner, something that sent a chill down his spine. There were the sounds of swords and they had been watching his every move.

Their apparent interest him made him stop, and linger in the empty hallway.

"Why do you follow me?" he said as he turned to the two guards, feeling agitated and alert, "Surely your duties lie elsewhere in the castle."

He recognized them instantly as soldiers of Fria, now absorbed into the force protecting Arendelle as part of the Royal Guard. He still had trouble getting used to seeing them in their green uniforms instead of the colors of their lost kingdom, but that was the reality of their world and the truths they had to learn to accept.

He awaited their answers with an impatient glare.

"Our duties lie with you, my king. We are concerned for your safety," the first responded, giving him the title he despised and showing the lines that still existed in the ranks of Elsa's Guard.

Yasha scoffed. "Do not speak nonsense. I am no child and can take care of myself. You are now soldiers of Arendelle, and your duty lies to it and none other," he said, rebuking them for their misplaced loyalties.

The second guard exchanged a glance with the first, then stepped forward as well. "Are you not the future king of Arendelle? We thought you and the queen…" he began, though he was silenced by the way it soured Yasha's expression.

"By the mountain, this place is built with tongues for keystones," he sighed, annoyed that even his people were taking part in the gossip machine that worked tirelessly within the walls of Arendelle. He had no patience to deal with it, even from his own people, and he quickly waved them off with a stern hand and a stern warning. "Back to your duties with you, and leave the bedroom chatter to barons and barmaids."

Both guards stiffened and bowed. "Yes, my king," they said in unison, having the last word in their allegiance to his bloodline. Then they quickly turned and disappeared, leaving Yasha alone once more to grumble to himself.

Sighing, he rolled his head back tiredly, wondering just how long he would have to live in the shadow of his father. It aggravated him even more to think that his own people were crafting a crown due to precedent, and not by the place he was trying to earn at Elsa's side. It seemed like half of the world was planning his coronation, while the other half planned his wake, making him wonder exactly where he fit in, and how he could ever feel like he had earned his place.

"How easily that others crown the reluctant king," he grumbled, turning back to continue his path to nowhere while suffering the realization that he once again had no control over the world around him.

It seemed no matter what he did, there were shadows he could never escape.

Just as he was about to move on, he heard the sounds of footsteps and swords once more, though he was entirely too exhausted to continue to deal with the stubbornness of his people. He was beginning to think that he needed to do something about this apparition, the obsolete king of Fria, simply in order to have a clear picture of who he really was.

"I told you to return to your…" he sighed as he turned once more, though it wasn't the same two guards that met him, but a large fist knocking all to darkness.

* * *

By the time Johann entered the room, he found Yasha awake, sitting in the chair with his wrists chained and his eyes glaring from within the dim light. The two guards stood quietly at his sides and were proud of the bruises and cuts he had on his face, though they stiffened at his appearance. Johann was also pleased by the way they had handled him.

"Well, it seems you're finally showing your station," he said, closing the door quietly behind him, "People like you deserve to sit in chains, not chat intimately with the queen in the ballroom."

Yasha was rolling his tongue over a cut in his lip, his expression calm and his voice steady. "What do you want?"

Johann found his calm demeanor aggravating, but hid it well as he walked before him, resting his hand across the hilt of his sword. "For you to leave Arendelle and never come back," he admitted, "But I'm not that much of an optimist. I imagine you'll need a little persuasion to see things my way. And I don't think these two made much progress with that, did they?"

Yasha leaned back casually in his chair, not bothering to respond or even look to the two guards. Johann smiled, feeling he had assessed him well. "No, you're not the type of man to be scared away with a little pain," he continued, idly wagging his sword as it hung at his side. "I actually find that to be an admirable trait. It's easy to see how you've bedeviled the queen, but that's why it's come to this, really."

"I understand that some of your people have been hounded by some unsavory characters lately. Pity that. As captain of the Guard, it's within my power to see to it that such terrible incidents stop. Your people would no longer be bothered and would get to enjoy living in the splendor of Arendelle, just as our beautiful queen intended," he continued, a distinctly perverse smile coming over his face as he leaned down, placing his hands on the armrest of the chair. "All you have to do is go away. Don't involve yourself with our queen any more, and your people will be safe. It sounds like a fair deal to me."

"And, isn't sacrificing for your people something you're very good at?"

Yasha groused quietly, angered by the way he could somehow help his people, yet wouldn't. It was sad to know that such people existed even in Elsa's serene kingdom and he wondered if she knew about such things. Inwardly, he hoped that she didn't, as he had always hoped she didn't have to explore the darker places of the world, where shadows always existed in the presence of light.

He, on the other hand, was used to the darker places. "Is that it?" he asked casually and lifted his shackled wrists, "All of this, just to lay a claim on her?"

"What I claim is fate," Johann snarled, pacing a few steps back and glaring harshly at him, "Since we were children, I've grown up watching her from afar, locked away like a doll, afraid and fragile. I swore that one day she would never have to be afraid again. It's always been my destiny to be the one who would protect her, especially from criminals like you."

To his surprise, Yasha laughed. "Watched her your whole life?" he remarked, smirking at the way his reaction angered him, "Perhaps you have been watching the wrong doll. I have known Elsa but a short time. She is not as fragile as you would make her to be."

"You'd dare to tell me of the woman I was born to marry?" Johann scoffed, feeling his blood boil under his skin at the way he referred to her by name, "You weren't here to see her sitting at the windows of the castle, afraid to come out, afraid to see what people might think of these powers of hers. I've devoted my life to her! I became her shield and her sword. Only I can accept her in light of this curse she bears. Only my love can help her become the queen she's truly meant to be!"

Yasha let out a slow, disappointed breath.

"One does not love another when they already know what they should become."

Being lectured made Johann flush with anger, and he struggled to come up with a civilized response. The entire course of the conversation had gotten away from him and he was starting to understand Yasha's reputation for a dominating the air. He suddenly struggled to hide his emotions.

"Enough of this. I'm giving you one last chance to reconsider my offer," he said, rushing through his threats and holding out a single finger for him to consider.

"I respectfully decline," Yasha replied pointedly.

Johann became even angrier and dropped his clenched hands to his sides, throwing a glance to the two guards. Even though he had lost the pace of the encounter, he still had the advantage. "Fine. I tried to do this the easy way. You'll force me to do it the hard way. Take him," he ordered, watching in glee as the two men finally broke from their statue-like poses and reached down to grab Yasha.

As he was wrenched to his feet, the shackled prince suddenly lunged into action. His hands still bound, he quickly stomped down onto the foot of one guard, staggering him, though he was already bringing the metal shackles up to the face of the other. The blow knocked the man back, while he was twisting around to catch the staggered guard at the back of the neck with the dull, metal strike. The quick assault took Johann by complete surprise and his reactions were slowed by the sudden rise of adrenaline that always accompanied fear. By the time he had regained his composure enough to reach for his sword, Yasha had lunged in one fluid motion, his shackled hands clutching the pommel of Johann's sword, keeping it firmly in its scabbard, as his face hovered mere inches from him, all before either of the guards had hit the ground.

Johann's intimidation came out in a shaky exhale and he stared into the dangerously clear gray eyes before him.

"Draw that blade and I will end this generous response I have so far given you," Yasha warned, watching the mixture of indignation and terror wash through his eyes. It had been enough to learn how far the young officer would go to get what he desired, and that he was at least aware of the attacks against his people, though he was no longer willing to play this game. "Put your efforts to better use. Unlock the shackles."

Johann seethed, his hand still tightly wrapped around his sword, but soon realized that if this chained prince could handle two of his best men, an restricted sword would give him no benefit. Yasha's fierce reputation was apparently well-founded and Johann cursed himself for underestimating him.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand from the sword and reached to his keys, taking them off his belt and feeling for the correct one while Yasha stared at him, their faces only a breath apart. The quiet, electrified moments as the key turned inside the metal thundered in Johann's ears, while his usually confident eyes bowed fearfully as they suffered the ferocity of the ones before him.

The shackles fell to the floor loudly, though neither of them flinched.

With his hands finally freed, Yasha slowly pulled his hand away from the sword and stood straight, though didn't back down. He continued to smolder, making sure to watch for any signs of him going for the sword again. "You would do well to remember this. I suffer no man's whim, and I care not for your desires to claim some fragile doll you watched from afar. But if I find you are somehow involved in these attacks against my people, whether by design or neglect, I will come for you, with no consideration of your station or politics," he swore in a scathing tone.

He then moved even closer, their noses almost touching, and his eyes nearly burning through him.

"And concerning Elsa, as long as she so chooses, I am hers. And should you ever try to otherwise persuade her, as you have just tried to persuade me, you will be mine."

Johann was forcing the air through his teeth, finding his pressure to be overwhelming. He had been told that the prince no longer wielded any magic, but the atmosphere was hot enough to be supernatural. Even without the magic, he had proven to be tremendously capable, so much so that Johann didn't dare to move, despite the fact he had been trained by the finest instructors in the land and had earned his position in the Guard from skill.

As his father had warned him, he had underestimated the prince of Fria, and now suffered at his mercy. It was a painful lesson for him, particularly in regards to his ego.

"This appears to be nothing but a misunderstanding. I apologize for any inconvenience the actions of my men have caused, Prince Yasha," he seethed, using all of his strength to swallow that ego and placate his fierce eyes. "I'll see to it that it doesn't happen again."

Yasha slowly leaned back, smirking. The groaning of his men made his attempts to salvage the encounter pitiful, though he would never pretend to understand the politics of Arendelle's court. The look in his eyes was enough to assure him that his point had been taken, about his people and about Elsa. He was also confident of his assurance, as this young princeling certainly wouldn't be so careless to try this again.

"At last, we see the true measure of the regent's son," he scoffed, taking one last moment to give him a cautionary glare and then stepping around him to leave the room.

"Mind my words well. I will not be so charitable in the future."

His eyes falling as Yasha exited the room, Johann shuddered with humiliation, feeling betrayed by not only his men, but his own courage. The criminal prince had bested him from a vulnerable position, insulted his honor and even forced him to apologize for the entire incident as a product of his poor leadership and cowardice. He hadn't even started to think about how his father would react when learning of this. The worst part of all was that he hadn't succeeded in scaring him away from the arms of the queen, the one place he desired over all others.

The entire evening had been a disaster.

In a fit of anger, he suddenly drew his sword and cleaved the back of the chair in half, watching it clatter to the floor loudly and wishing Yasha had still been in it. It was frustrating beyond measure that things hadn't worked out the way he wanted them to, and he couldn't remember a time when one of his father's plans had fallen apart so disastrously, all because this criminal of a prince had been more skillful than he predicted, both physically and mentally. His demeanor had dominated the night and when Johann tried to pinpoint the moment when he lost control, he realized that he never had it to begin with.

Slowly pushing his sword back into his scabbard, he glared at the broken chair, ignoring the stirring of his men. Seething, he clenched his hands at his side and despite his infuriating submission, he swore under his breath that this wasn't that last of his dealings with the dangerous prince of Fria, and that someday soon he would rescue his beloved Elsa from the power he somehow had over her.


	5. Becoming Capulet

**V**

Becoming Capulet

Queen Elsa was sitting at the head of a large table, her hand pushed across her brow as a sharp pain was pinging through her head. For nearly three hours, her advisors had been in the cavernous hall, discussing a myriad of topics that concerned the kingdom, though arguing might have been a better way to phrase it. Tempers were heated and even some of the coolest heads in the room were steaming, though it was the subject that had brought Yasha there that had been gaining force, particularly because it had the tempered prince in a hot exchange with the baron of Elsa's Royal Guard.

"This situation is intolerable! More and more of my people are falling victim to these vagrants and thieves. I demand to know what steps are being taken to protect them!" he called loudly, standing from his chair and his hands planted on the table. The subject had frayed his usually practiced appearance and his dark hair was hanging loosely in his face, giving him a feral look that was reminiscent of his days in exile. His attention was solely on the plump man across the table from him.

Baron Wingate was the head of the Royal Guard and the military commander of the entire kingdom. He was balding and had a thick moustache that ruffled whenever he spoke. While he had grown fat over the years, he retained the thickness of his limbs that came from being a soldier his whole life, something that also wouldn't allow him to be dressed down in front of his queen by this upstart prince from another kingdom. "I agree that the situation is intolerable! There is already a detachment of guards sent out with every caravan, which is more than we provide for our own people!" he argued back, standing as well as his moustache flared in contempt. "It was at _your _request that the remnants of Fria's soldiers be placed in charge of guarding your people, Prince Yasha. I believe we have been more than fair in accommodating your requests."

Yasha could only seethe in response.

"Please, this doesn't have to be a shouting match," Elsa barked sternly to them both, trying as hard as she could to not pay too much attention to Yasha, but also not appear like she was trying to ignore him. Keeping him at the correct distance for these formal meetings was harder than she ever imagined.

The two of them quieted down and she shifted her eyes to her prince, once more governing her tone. "Prince Yasha, I understand your concerns. We're also very concerned that these criminals haven't been found yet, and I'm confident that Baron Wingate and his men are doing their best to try and make sure everyone who lives in Arendelle is protected from such attacks," she said, trying to placate him in the most professional manner she could manage. She never liked the look of fury that was presently in his eyes.

It made her remember scarier times.

"It's as Your Majesty says," the baron added, keeping his eyes on him and flaunting the support like it was her banner hanging over his head.

"Perhaps your best is not good enough when it does not concern _your own people," _Yasha hissed poisonously.

Baron Wingate's face went redder than his uniform and he coiled backwards, his moustache bristling wildly.

"Of all the insolence!" he roared.

"Yasha!" Elsa snapped hotly. Usually, she was very good about not calling him so personally in front of anyone but Anna, yet the remark had offended her. With the look in his eyes, she wasn't even sure who he was accusing.

Yasha winced and looked to her, seeing the anger and hurt in her eyes. While his agitation at the situation had been burning hotly inside, he realized that she was the only one in the room that had been constantly supporting him and that mindlessly lashing out at the world wouldn't help his people. He realized the folly of angering her.

Taking a deep breath, he fought down his own anger as penance to her furious eyes, then looked back to the baron, still trying to control himself and finally offering a curt bow.

"I apologize, Baron. That was unfair of me," he admitted, feeling only a little honesty in his admission, "I appreciate all that Arendelle does for the people of Fria, of course."

With the tension diffused for the moment, both of them slowly sat down in their chairs.

"This is getting us nowhere," Elsa sighed after a moment of catching her breath. After being infected by the anger, she sat back in her chair and rested her hands in her lap, though she was having trouble resisting the urge to glare at Yasha for his behavior, feeling it was just adding to this rebellious reputation he already had. She knew how much this topic infuriated him and how determined he could be in protecting his people, but she also couldn't let him fling accusations of incompetence and nepotism at her advisors, especially when she didn't agree with them.

Feeling flustered, she sometimes had to irreverently be queen, even to him.

To stave off the temptation of admonishing him further, she turned her attention to the other side of the table, to where her loyal baron was also still fuming. "Baron Wingate, do you have any idea why we've not been able to find those responsible for attacking the caravans, or why they're specifically attacking the ones carrying these goods?" she asked.

"No, Your Majesty. I can only assume it's because the Frian goods fetch a high price in the markets, though I'm baffled at how they continue to elude my men," he admitted, giving her a guilty glance. "In all my years, I've never dealt with such elusive thugs. It's like they know exactly where to ambush the caravan and how many men they need to overpower the guards. Then they just disappear into the mists. I can't explain it."

Elsa sighed. "Two months of attacks, with so many people hurt by these ruffians. It's any wonder that no one has been killed yet," she whispered, wishing the pain in her head would subside, then looked out over her circle of advisors, focusing through the muddy mood to be the queen needed to resolve the situation. "I think we all understand why Prince Yasha is so concerned. The people from Fria are now part of Arendelle, and they deserve the same safety that any of our people enjoy. I want the attacks stopped and those responsible brought to justice. I won't tolerate violence against my people."

"As you command, Queen Elsa," Baron Wingate said, bowing his head in obedience. The other around the followed suit.

The peace she bartered over the room made everyone seem calmer, even if it was obvious that there was still a great deal of unresolved tension between Yasha and the rest of her circle. He continued to sit silently, his eyes cast to the middle of the table and his jaw clenched at the failed resolutions of the gathering. While cooler heads prevailed and they all sat there on their laurels, his people continued to suffer while he helplessly looked on.

Bitterly, he wondered if he had been invited simply to be made into a fool.

"Well, why don't we call it a day then," Regent Stenson suddenly said, breaking his unusual silence and glancing over to Elsa, "There've been enough frayed nerves for one evening, don't you agree, Your Highness?" Despite the heated nature of the meeting, he had simply sat back and watched, not mediating between hotter heads as he was known for. That strange fact had been bothering her, especially as it had been him that invited Yasha in the first place.

A bad feeling had crept into her stomach yet again.

"Yes, I think that's a good idea," she agreed, rising to her feet to formally signal the others that they could do the same.

As the others stood, Yasha joined them and prepared to leave the room to let his head cool, for the fires inside of him were licking against the back of his eyes. A sideward glance found Elsa impatiently looking his direction and he was made aware that she had a few things to say to him privately, something that stirred a feeling of dread. He wasn't looking forward to being alone with her at the moment.

"Prince Yasha, would you stay for a moment? I wish it that you talk with me," the regent suddenly added, instantly snaring both his and Elsa's attention. He hadn't risen from his chair and was looking to the young man with unyielding eyes. Elsa showed her anxiety by lingering nearby, her eyes first on him and then slowly moving to Yasha.

Her actions drew the regent's eyes slowly to her. "Unless Your Highness has other business and cannot spare him?"

Feeling terrible dread, she looked between them, her eyes filled with worry. She could still remember his pointed advice about their secret relationship and she suspected that this was the entire reason he had invited him in the first place. Lately, his actions had cut through her like a knife and she really had no idea what to expect from him. "No," she finally said, pasting her hands to her waist and portraying the posture she knew he wanted from her.

While she didn't want this, she felt she had to retreat from his overbearing presence.

"Excuse me then, Regent. Prince Yasha."

After another worried glance to her lover, she gracefully turned and walked from the room, with the guards slowly closing the doors behind her.

Regent Stenson watched their entire exchange silently, though now his eyes rested on the prince from Fria. In truth, he had been waiting to get him alone, yet had been biding his time until everything was right. Seeing how frenzied he was, he felt compelled to move. "Well now, I don't think we've ever just sat and talked, especially when we obviously have such important things to discuss," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Please sit."

Yasha hesitated. "What important things does my lord wish to discuss?"

The regent was annoyed by his hesitation and knit his hands across his stomach. His glare carried the weight of the kingdom behind it. "A good many important things, not the least of which being the queen," he explained.

"I fail to see how such conversation would be appropriate, Regent," Yasha replied, feeling anxious about facing him with Elsa as the topic. He could easily see now why she had been so disturbed by his private counsel of their courtship at Johann's reception.

The man's eyes demanded obedience.

"All that happens in the kingdom is my duty, young man, including the interests and well-being of our young queen. You are part of that now, whether I agree with it or not. Sit down," he barked, taking the impressive pressure that Yasha was known for and dispersing it with his powerful tone. If this was to be a battle of wills, Yasha was finding that this man wasn't on the same level as his impetuous son.

Regent Stenson was a colossus of will.

Feeling he wouldn't be able to simply intimidate him as he had Johann, Yasha slowly moved over and sat in the chair. His movements were slow, but deliberate. He was finding it difficult to control his pace when looking into the stern eyes of this noble patriarch.

"How may I serve, my lord?"

Finally finding him where he wanted him, the regent settled into his chair further and spent a moment in silence, looking over the young prince. Taking his time to review his qualities, he found him impressive and well-deserving of his fearsome reputation, but also as wild and unrefined as he suspected. He could also see why his own foolish son had been bested in all of his impatience. That fact alone drove some of the animosity to bleed through his tone.

"Is that what you seek?" he asked, "To serve?"

Yasha was silenced for a moment, his brow furrowed. "I do not understand the question."

The regent shrugged. "It's a simple matter," he replied, though his eyes became significantly heavier, "Do you wish to serve Arendelle, or rule it?"

The question made Yasha grimace and his heart was beating faster in his chest. That wasn't what he was expecting, yet the question was significant. In truth, he had never really thought about what courting Elsa meant for their future. He had spent every moment since meeting her in a bid to cast away the title of king, fearful of the standard that had been set by his father, yet by living in her heart, he was inevitably destined to embrace it.

That fact hit him hard.

"Rule it?" he asked, his voice giving away the weight the idea had. "You suspect I would court Queen Elsa out of some desire to take her kingdom as my own?"

"Considering our recent past, the thought had crossed my mind. You've brought your people here. Your soldiers now intermix with our own. You seek to make a claim on our queen, do you not? Where does Fria end and Arendelle begin for you?" he remarked.

Yasha's eyes fell away. He stared down at the table, his eyes moving around in thought and his hands clenched. Strangely, he wasn't prepared to see himself in a crown or rule over a people that he felt this shallow contempt for. Ironically, the hazy line between Arendelle and Fria that the regent alluded to didn't exist for him. For him, that line was sharp and insurmountable. "There is no Fria, my lord, and I do not wish for anything but the welfare of my people. Her crown is not something that persuades me," he claimed.

The regent seemed disappointed in his response. In honesty, he had been expecting more from him, yet he saw a wild uncertainty in his resolve, regardless of how strong it was. There were all of the things that Elsa claimed in him, the nobility, the courage, the compassion, yet there was so much else layered withing them; doubt, fear and anger.

Before him, he didn't see a king.

He saw a boy.

"What of Elsa, then? What do you desire for her?" he asked bluntly.

Yasha's eyes instantly went up to him and his mouth opened, though his voice failed. It was no easy question, in spite of how simple the answer came when he was speaking to her alone. As much as he wanted to plainly claim his intent for her, he felt like he couldn't do it there, in front of the man who was like her father.

Secretly, he wanted her there with him to bolster his courage.

"That is a personal matter," he replied.

"Do not presume to tell me of her personal matters!" the regent roared back, suddenly infuriated by his lack of a clear answer, "After the death of her father, I've raised the child as if she were my own. I taught her to rule this country, not hand it over to some criminal who takes young women into the night. You'll not sit there and evade my questions out of consideration of her privacy!"

"You ask me of things I cannot answer readily, my lord, not out of evasion, but honor," Yasha answered hotly. The regent was suddenly speaking like Johann and holding a fragile little doll in his hands. Hearing anyone marginalize Elsa was infuriating, even if that person was someone she loved and cherished as if he were her own father.

"What do you know of honor? A man who sneaks around the castle like a thief? A son who opposed his own father? A prince…" he scoffed, though then realized he was letting his emotions get away from him, which was something he knew to be dangerous in front of this capable man.

He took a moment to calm down. "Well, as you said, you have no country, and what is a prince with no country of his own?"

Yasha bristled. "I do not speak of my honor, but hers. Elsa does not need me to speak for her, and I will not speak of her as if she were some trinket to be bartered. I would not do so, even to her respected father," he parried, finally finding the subject he had been seeking in order to face off with him.

The regent sat for a long time, eyeing the young man with his lips pursed and his eyes forceful. While he thought he had cornered him, he had come back with a beautifully poetic response, one that not only defended the queen's honor, but also paid respect to him and the late king simultaneously. In terms of verbal fencing, it was a swift and dedicated strike. A grin was fighting through his reprimanding scowl.

_"This boy is something, Adgar. I wish you were here to meet him in my stead."_ he thought.

Idly lost in his unexpected amusement, the regent suddenly leaned forward and slapped his hand across the table, sending a loud crack of thunder through the silent hall. "Hah!" he barked, smiling wider than he had smiled in a long time. Against his better judgment, he was starting to like this whelp that sat before him, regardless of what he was going to have to do to him. "I'll admit that you're an impressive young man. And you have the tongue of a politician."

Yasha was defensive. "But not the heart, I fear," he replied, satisfied in how it struck the regent's flowering mood.

The regent let the comment go, knowing when to take a jab and when to throw one. He was already convinced of the next steps he needed to take in order to deal with this cunning prince and there was little to be gained in beginning another argument. Instead, it was time to set him into the place he had been slowly preparing since the moment he had showed in his kingdom.

"Then perhaps we should find you a place in Arendelle a little more befitting of your true talents," he suggested as he put his plans into motion.


	6. A Captain and the Queen

**VI**

A Captain and the Queen

Anna and Elsa were both staring, speechless. Before them was Yasha, dressed in the uniform of Arendelle's Royal Guard, standing straight with an imperial hat tucked under his arm and a firm expression on his face. His hair was cut short and combed back, leaving only the stubborn wisp of hair that always seemed to hang in his face, and he was already growing his sideburns down his jaw, as was popular with the rest of the Guard. It was bizarre to see him in those colors, with grays and greens replacing the fiery red and black of his homeland. There were some small changes from the other guards they were used to seeing, such as the black gem he kept pinned to his breast, a reminder that while he wore the colors of Arendelle a part of him would always claim Fria in his heart, and there was no normal sword hanging at his belt. Instead, his Xenocryst was at his back, leaving him less-armed than was standard but harkening back to his appearance when in exile, something that stirred up powerful emotions for both of them.

They both knew how dangerous that dagger could be.

While both of them had been stalled by the surprise, it was Anna that first broke free of the shock as she finally finished running her eyes all over him, a strangely excited smile on her face. "Yasha, you look…" she started, unable to think of anything snarky to say, "pretty good, actually." She fawned over his new look, brushing a few specks of dirt from his sleeve and was otherwise engaged by this strange turn of events. To her, it simply made interesting conversation and gave her yet another reason to be enamored with her kidnapper, only making their kinship that much more bizarre.

In contrast, Elsa stood at a distance, staring harshly with her lips pursed tight.

She had yet to say a word.

Anna was oblivious to her sister's mood as she bounced around, scrutinizing every aspect of his appearance and grinning widely at the way he stood still for her. It was sort of fun picking over him. "What do the little things here mean?" she asked, running her fingers over two small metal pins at his lapels. They were ancient symbols of Arendelle and she had seen some like them elsewhere, though she couldn't remember where.

"They are a mark of rank. For a captain of the Guard," he replied, his eyes slowly leaving Elsa's silent gaze. Seeing her attend to him so cheerfully melted away his tense expression and he reveled in their bond, even as he knew his true courage would be needed as soon as Elsa surmounted her initial shock. He would enjoy her reaction while he could.

"Really? Isn't that like, pretty important?" Anna asked, tilting to the side to get a better look at the back.

"It is a position of responsibility, yes. Part of that will be keeping the princess from getting into too much trouble," he said slyly. "A very difficult charge."

Her face brightened and a devilish glimmer appeared in her eyes as she popped back in front of him, eager to meet that challenge head on. "Is that so? You're pretty brave, aren't you?" she said as she put her hands on her hips, trying to size herself up to this new officer. "I think you'll find you've bitten off more than you can chew."

The very idea of him policing her made her mind whirl with thoughts on how to make that as difficult as possible, though she suddenly suffered a powerful realization, one that brought her cheerful assessment to a grinding halt. "So wait. The decided to make you, the guy who snuck into the castle in the middle of the night, knocked out like fifty guards and then kidnapped the princess, that would be me…a captain of the Royal Guard charged with protecting the princess…me again, from guys just like you?" she asked, biting the back of her lips petulantly.

"Who better to make sure it does not happen again?" he replied with a quirk in his brow.

The response made her burst into laughter and she couldn't argue with that logic. In truth, she couldn't think of anyone better suited to protecting the treasures of the castle, though she also couldn't get past the opportunity to mess with him at every given moment. She continued to think of ways to make his duties as aggravating as possible, until a chilling voice behind her broke the charming moment and signaled that Elsa was finally ready to share her mind.

"You've joined the Royal Guard?"

Yasha's eyes left Anna and his back straightened, as if gathering his strength to face her. An unsettled breath escaped his lips and he had no immediate response, betraying the fact that he didn't have any witty answers to offer her, and that he seemed unprepared to face her wrath. His only response was to gaze back with a pensive frown on his face.

Anna picked up on the atmosphere and felt her skin prickle, finding that she didn't want to be in between them at the moment. When Elsa was angry, things tended to get very cold, very quickly, and seeing as she wasn't the object of her anger at the moment, she was going to spare herself any peripheral frostbite and take a convenient exit from their looming quarrel.

"I'll just leave you two alone for a bit," she chuckled nervously.

Grimacing for the earful he was about to receive, she patted him across the shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look. "Good luck," she whispered, then ducked out from between them and quickly marched away.

As she fled, neither Elsa nor Yasha watched. They stared in silence, strangely knowing the feelings of the other. It was a connection that had discovered even before they had faced Nazir and the FireHeart, this silent understanding, and it had only become stronger as they fell into love. While the stagnant air over them demanded that something change in their world, this turn of events had taken her completely off guard and she couldn't help but feel betrayed by his actions. The most painful aspect was that he didn't talk to her before making this dramatic change to their lives, and that was fueling the burning anger that tore within her chest. It was as if he no longer trusted her with his most intimate thoughts or concerns.

"Why?" she asked painfully.

The weight of that single word made him exhale slowly. "There is not a simple, single reason."

Her hands clenched at her waist and she felt a new aspect of the burning in her chest. As he stood before her, she was reminded of the dauntless son of the regent and his recent blitzkrieg against her. Even as she had tried to make it utterly clear to Yasha that she wasn't interested in his overtures, his actions and his appearance suddenly made her feel like he didn't believe her as much as she hoped. The thought made her angrier.

"Is this because of Johann?" she asked venomously, "Is this some kind of game between you two?"

His eyes flashed and he felt his skin flush with anger. "It is no game," he growled sharply, then tried to calm down. In his heart, he knew she was right to be angry, and while he had wanted to approach their problems rationally, there had simply been too much fire in him to move rationally. In retrospect, he knew he had once more been villainous to her, even if his heart was in the right place.

Secretly, he reflected on how that was a recurring theme between them.

Sighing at his own sins, he wilted and dropped the hat from under his arm, hitting it against his leg in reparation and trying to dissolve the tense atmosphere between them. His shoulders fell as he began to feel the weight of his decision, most potently as he tried to bear the look of betrayal in her eyes.

"It was the regent," he admitted, looking away and finding that the answer suddenly didn't convince himself of his choice.

Elsa flinched. "The regent?"

"He suggested that by finding a way to serve in your kingdom, I could disperse this stigma that surrounds me, to find some kind of station for myself. If I simply wander aimlessly around these halls, I will never be anything more than the man who kidnapped Anna, and I will never have the needed pedigree to claim what I most want to claim," he said, making sure that by turning his resolute eyes on her, she knew exactly what that was. "It is an imperfect solution, but how could I pass up the chance to find a place in your world?"

She pursed her lips. It was possibly the most foolish thing he had ever said and she felt her anger towards him subside like a storm being broken upon the mountains. The burning in her heart changed color and she clenched her hand over it, looking to him with a brooding sense of love and compassion.

She could barely believe he didn't already understand it.

"You already have a place in my world."

The response melted his anger as well and he sighed, pushing his hand back through his hair and trying to figure out when everything had gotten away from him again. If their story had been written in an ancient fairytale, they would have simply been together after the resolution in Fria, a noble prince falling in love with a compassionate queen. It was probably the simplest wish he had in his heart, yet the both of them knew that their world didn't exist in a book and that their happy ending would only come if they were willing to write it. He had been willing to do anything to be with her, though the price was often harder to bear when actually paying it.

"In your heart, perhaps, but not in your world," he groused, showing his renewed anger at the situation, "To them, I am a stranger in your kingdom, a jaded outsider. A criminal. To them, I have no claim to this affection you give me."

"But you're a prince, Yasha. A king!" she cried passionately.

"I am prince of a kingdom that no longer exists, and what is that exactly?" he replied hotly, his pale eyes burning fiercely as he slowly looked out over the view of her kingdom beyond. The titles hit him as hard as always, though for different reasons now. They were titles he had given up, yet in light of his proclaimed distaste for them, he found that once he actually cast them away he felt a powerful sense of loss, as if a thread from his heart had always been tied around his birthright. He feared the blood of Nazir, yet could never cast it from his veins. Being a prince had always given him a strangely noble image of himself, yet now, as he was nothing more than an officer in her Guard, he felt as if he had somehow betrayed the father and king he so blatantly despised, and that he regretted casting away his bloodline, no matter how much he despised it.

In truth, he didn't understand that part of himself well.

"I grew tired of the titles bestowed upon me, Elsa. They felt like nothing more than banners pinned across my chest, placed and removed as easily as one would a button up a shirt. Prince of Fria. King of the FireHeart. In your world, they mean nothing. Are nothing. As frivolous as a joke and just as pathetic in their inability to do anything more than provide invitations to mindless parties and insure that someone will have shined my boots by the next morning sun," he complained as he considered just how different his life truly was between his days in exile and the luxuries he was now afforded. So many things the regent had said resonated with him, with the logic of throwing away his entitlement as royalty becoming stronger with every moment he listened. If the title hadn't given him the authority to maintain the welfare of his people, he would have forsaken it earlier, yet in this new capacity as an officer in the Royal Guard, new avenues opened up in making sure the people of Fria were safe, especially in light of the continuing attacks on them.

"Elsa," he said, turning back and laying out to her the biggest reason of all, the one that even the regent had oddly been alluding to in between all of his well-versed lines of persuasion, "By taking up this charge, I will earn my place in your kingdom instead of having it given to me on a silver platter. I will protect you using these terrible crafts I command, and when I have paid in blood all the price your world demands of me, I will then be able to make my claim on your heart, with no more consideration of politics or tradition."

"In this world, I cannot be your prince, but I can be your captain."

The beautiful reasoning made her whimper, feeling that she could barely contain the burning in her chest. His drastic actions were more and more rational, no matter how painful it seemed. Oddly, she felt powerless to resolve this problem for him, using her authority as queen to somehow command the world to accept him. It was a painful reminder that there were things in life that no queen could command, leaving them to conquer their problems not as a prince or queen, but as a man and woman in love.

As much as she hated this decision, she found it was the only one that would allow them to be together in a way the world would allow.

These realizations made her walk slowly to him, looking up with all of the love they weren't allowed to share openly. Her hands went tenderly to his face and she couldn't fight the depressed frown that dominated her features, even as she always wanted to be beautiful for him.

"How can you do this, after all that you've done already?" she whispered.

He found her touch a truly possessive thing. "I have earned nothing if I am unwilling to continue fighting for it," he replied, reaching up and putting his hand over hers. "The life of a prince is a small price to pay to walk the path that leads me to you."

Feeling overwhelmed by the truth of his love and without even looking around to see if anyone was watching, she laid her head across his chest and held him with all of the power of her heart. It was a simple embrace, yet it was strong enough to freeze the moment in time, one she wished would last far longer than she knew they had. The decision and the demands felt distant as long as they could be together and she reflected heavily on what he was giving up. If he was willing to do this much, she would find the courage to endure, to fight for it as well.

It felt like the least she could do for their love.


	7. The Duel

**VII**

The Duel

Several weeks after Yasha's controversial appointment as a captain of the Royal Guard, there were sounds of fighting in Arendelle Castle. Under the cool morning sun, a group of men were under the scrutiny of the others, not because of any discriminating banner, but because at the center of the group stood the man who was the perennial talk of the land, and now the focus of countless eyes within the Guard. His arrival had been anticipated since the baron had announced it, and now that he had stepped out with the other men, they were eager to see how the life of a soldier would settle on this renowned prince and criminal.

In the dust and in the sun, all eyes were on Captain Yasha.

With an aerobatic display of momentum, the guard of Arendelle landed squarely on his back, letting out a vocal grunt as the wind was knocked out of him. The rest were circled and watching intently, seeing the large man spun through the air like a toy and then pinned there by the simplest of grasp to the wrist. Standing over him, Yasha forcefully held his arm and was focused, as he had come at him with a club-like fist and spared no mercy in trying to give the new captain a proper welcome.

Instead of initiating him, the guard was groaning loudly and clutching at his twisted arm, while Yasha slowly looked up to the others, carefully assessing his position.

"Not all enemies can be beaten by brute force, and not all weapons are swords and spears," he called out, leveraging the man's arm and making him yelp slightly, then releasing him and standing straight. He gestured to the man, who was much larger than he was, and tried to teach them something useful for defense, but also why he was no token appointment in Elsa's Guard. "Use your opponent as a weapon. His movements, his aggression, even his clothing. Any of it can be used. A sharp mind can be as deadly as a sharp sword, even when unarmed."

The onlookers were tense as they watched, but also quiet. This was the new captain's first real introduction to them, at least in the way that mattered to soldiers. His lineage stirred up feelings of betrayal and resentment, but also pride and loyalty, though in the current atmosphere all of these emotions were a dangerous mixture, volatile and just waiting to be set off.

That fact wasn't lost on Yasha as he sensed the enmity in the yard.

To defuse the tension, he reached out his hand to the panting guard. He could see his face was red in embarrassment. Despite the way the man avoided the gesture, Yasha continued to speak with his hand offered out, showing that he wouldn't allow the distractions of his notoriety hang over them in their duty. "You may have heard many things about me. Forget them. I am no prince. I am no whipping boy. I am your captain, and I will have your respect. Fulfill your duty in faithfully serving the queen, and you will have mine," he called, then looked back to the large guard, waiting patiently for him to get over his indignation.

The guard continued looking up, grasping his aching shoulder and heaving heavy breaths. While he had been talked into trying to embarrass the new captain, hearing the expectations and seeing his powerful eyes made him rethink his choice, though as he slowly reached up to take Yasha's hand, there was still a sliver of intent in his eyes.

Pulling the guard to his feet took more effort than expected, but Yasha had thrown aside his instincts and trusted him to act honorably, though as he faced him, his eyes demanded his obedience and courtesy.

The man hesitated a moment more, then satisfied his captain with a respectful nod.

Yasha patted him across his large arm to herd him to the others and dusted off his shirt to free if from the dirt it had gathered in the scuffle. Like the other men, he was dressed in a plain, white shirt that hung loosely to his lean frame, completed by standard pants and a pair of dark jackboots. He found the departure from the formal attire of the ballroom a welcome change and reveled in the feeling at being able to move again. If there was one benefit to leaving the castle, it was being able to wear dirty clothes again.

As the young captain continued his introduction to the men, one of them softly elbowed the man next to him, speaking under his breath to try and avoid drawing the ire of their new commander. "Hey. You're from Fria, right?" he said, his eyes still locked on Yasha, "Any idea why the captain's so good at this? I've never seen anyone floor Thias like that before."

The second man was surprised, finding that the soldiers from Arendelle didn't often speak so casually to the soldiers from Fria, but his heart was burning with pride for his prince and he looked back with a mixture of that pride and of ancient sadness. "On occasion, King Nazir would send a few of us to find Prince Yasha and, as the king stated, '_see how he was coming along_.' We would seek him out in the caves or elsewhere, and then do terrible things to him, even when he was still nothing more than a boy," he explained, watching out of the corner of his eyes as the first man looked back incredulously. It was precisely the response he expected, and felt he deserved.

"It is a foul thing, to ruthlessly beat your prince by order of your king."

"Seriously!?" the first guard cried, then muffled his voice.

As Yasha continued to move around the circle and hadn't noticed their exchange, the man leaned back in and whispered even quieter, though his eyes showed he was now extremely intrigued by this fallen prince. "But he used to be able to use magic, right? Couldn't he have just lit the back end of your pants on fire and sent you running?"

"The prince never once used his powers against us, but after a few years, he no longer had any need," he replied, then watched Yasha with his pride far outweighing his regret, "Sometimes he would disappear for months at a time, traveling the lands they say, but one day he returned and was able to do the things you see him do now, to move as he does. We do not know who taught him this, but from that point on he simply began figuring out how to best deal with us without causing us too much harm, protecting us from ourselves, you might say. He has a very kind heart, you see."

"But make no mistake. Before it was claimed by the mountain, Fria did not have a single man that could best Prince Yasha in martial combat."

The first man exhaled slowly and felt the contagious nature of that pride. It was impossible not to be impressed when they saw him move so fluidly and handle trained soldiers with nothing more than a firm grip. He wanted to know more about how he learned these things, imagining it would be quite a tale, though he was satisfied for the moment just by seeing him down in the dirt with them. Knowing that this man was his captain made him feel that much more capable of defending Arendelle, regardless of what land he came from.

He suddenly wanted to follow him anywhere.

"It looks like we're not the only ones enjoying the captain's demonstration," whispered a third man, attracting the others and nodding up to an elevated walkway that overlooked the grounds.

Eyes rose up and they felt a new wave of pride coming over them, for what they saw there only flamed the fires of admiration they had for this infamously alluring man that had stepped out from the comforts of the castle to stand on the ground with them.

"You're staring," Anna said with a smirk, nudging her sister with a playful elbow.

Elsa snapped from her trance and looked up from the grounds, straightening her back and blushing indignantly. "No, I'm not. You're imagining things," she replied sharply.

Anna snickered and leaned onto the railing, her cheek pressed impishly into her hand. "Not so angry about him joining the Royal Guard now, huh? Enjoying the uniform a little more than you thought?" she teased, her face growing devilishly amused. "Or maybe it's the lack of uniform today?"

Elsa blushed even more and crossed her arms tightly over her chest, trying to ignore her insinuations. "Don't be absurd. I'm still against the whole idea. I mean, he's a prince for crying out loud. Why does he have to do something so silly and adolescent as roll around in the dirt with a bunch of other men?" she complained, her eyes falling back to the subject of their conversation. It was still difficult to accept his decision, though watching his muscles flex and his skin beaded with sweat did have a bewitching effect on her. The way the smudges of dust clung to his face and how he reached up with the back of his hand to wipe them away began to thaw her frigid response, and she began to lose herself in the fantasy once more.

Secretly, she could have watched him under the sun all day.

"Oh, come on. It's not so bad. I think he looks kind of happy rolling around in the dirt with a bunch of other men," Anna noted, and then her face twisted slightly at the thought. "That's kind of weird, actually."

Elsa sighed. "This is all the regent's doing. He has Yasha convinced that the only way the rest of the kingdom would accept him is if he proves that he's not just some homeless prince or some criminal that kidnapped you," she complained, frowning as she watched her beloved prince tromp through the dirt. "I just don't understand why this is so hard."

Anna was watching her and smiled lovingly as she bumped into her again, disturbing her melancholy as only a sister could. "Cheer up," she said, then drew her attention down to ruckus below, "That guy is stubborn, moody and probably the biggest drama queen this side of the Southern Seas. I mean, sometimes I don't even know what he's talking about. It's like he's practicing for a play or something."

The assessment drew a short laugh from Elsa and Anna stayed close, keeping her focused on what was in front of her. "But everything he's doing, he's doing it for you. I mean, if he's willing to stop being a prince just so he can be with you, I think that's super romantic. Don't you?"

Elsa showed her lingering doubts, wondering just where this bumpy path would lead them, but eventually wrapped her hands around Anna's and let out a long, defeated sigh, finding that her sister had the greatest knack for making her feel better. Her relationship with Yasha had been chaotic since he joined the Royal Guard, but having Anna console her made her feel slightly guilty. She renewed her oath to find the strength to try just as hard as he was.

"You're right," she said, then put her eyes back on the focus of her heart. "Sometimes I just feel like I'm making him sacrifice so much when he shouldn't have to."

Anna smiled and squeezed her hands, happy to be the one to keep the two of them on the right path. "Try not to worry so much. It'll all work out. Somehow," she replied and shrugged to the impetus of fate.

It was ironic that a prince had to stop being a prince in order to earn the right to court the queen, but the world often defied convention and demanded things from them that didn't follow any script. The story of romance between Elsa and Yasha was laid upon this foundation, for from the moment they had met their relationship had never followed the storybook lines of love and tradition, instead being forged in fire and ice, tempered by tragedy and pain, then cherished as something that was not simply given to them, but earned.

For her part, Anna was encouraged by the dynamic foundation of their romance.

Her sister reluctantly allowed herself to be consoled, though Anna's attention was soon broken as she noticed something below that dispelled her smile, grinding her playful and protective mood to a halt. "Oh boy, that's definitely not a good thing," she remarked and then looked back to Elsa, wondering how her distraught sister would handle it.

After following her eyes, Elsa's face paled and her lips drew back in anxiety with what was about to unfold below.

"Well, isn't this a quaint little scene," Johann called as he walked across the yard, his uniform sparkling in the sun and two of his own men following close behind him. Unlike the others, he appeared to be armed for battle, with a meticulously polished sword hanging at his side and his hands covered in thick gloves.

The interruption made a hush fall over the men and Yasha turned, bristling at the sight of the other captain, though he tried to remain calm and face him with a professional tone. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that the two men with him were the same two had roughly abducted him before, and that they still wore the same brutish smiles that lingered in his memory and his scars. His hand twitched at his side.

"Is there something you require, Captain Johann?" he asked, trying to be as polite as his mood would allow.

Johann smirked, looking over their dirty appearance and the fact that even men from Arendelle were involved in these unorthodox ways of close combat. Once more, he found himself completely baffled as to why his father had made this man a captain of the Guard and why he now had to stand on equal ground with him, though he was confident that now that he him in his world, he would make sure to use it to his advantage. It was simply matter of adapting to the situation.

"Oh, I was just curious as to what you were teaching these men. It appears like nothing more than trying to wrestle livestock on a farm," he replied, fixing his gloves and giving his men a devious grin before slowly moving his eyes back to Yasha, "Are you trying to turn these men into soldiers or livestock, _Captain_ Yasha?"

Yasha felt his blood boiling, though he slowly let out a breath and managed to remain calm. While he had encountered Johann a few times since being appointed, it was always in a formal setting or in the presence of Baron Wingate or Regent Stenson, where the young princeling's manners were always polished and restrained.

As he was once more seeing his true nature, he found himself wanting to grind his smiling face into the dirt. "Perhaps the good captain would like to participate and determine that for himself?" he suggested, baiting him with his harsh glare and biting tone.

"I would be happy to instruct you once more."

Johann's smile faded as he was reminded of Yasha's abduction. Some of the bitter shame came back to him and he suddenly wanted to accept the offer, just to get a chance to pummel this man with his bare hands. It seemed like the easiest way to deal with him, however he already had a plan in mind and wouldn't be distracted again. "Tempting, but I have a better idea," he replied, holding his hand out to his side. One of his men placed a sheathed sword in it and his grin spread wildly across his face, glimmering wickedly with foul intentions.

"A captain of the Royal Guard doesn't brawl along the battlefield like some common thug. We demonstrate ourselves with the sword," he noted, then tossed the sword through the air to Yasha, who caught it with a look of surprise on his face. He truly enjoyed that expression. "You've been so generous as to teach us how you fight in Fria. Why don't you allow me to return the favor?"

A hush dominated the yard.

"Johann!" cried a voice from above and all eyes looked up to Elsa, who was glaring down with pure anger on her face and hanging over the railing as much as modesty would allow. It was obvious she wasn't amused by the challenge, or the game.

"Oh, good morning, Your Highness," Johann replied innocently without turning. "I didn't see you up there."

"I do not approve of two of my captains drawing swords against one another! This behavior is completely…" she yelled, though he tread a thin line of disrespect by abruptly interrupting her.

"Forgive me, Queen Elsa, but I merely wish to have a lesson in swordplay with my fellow captain. As anyone appointed in the protection of the queen should be able to handle a friendly match, no one should be harmed," he said, then slowly looked back to Yasha with a devious smile.

"Don't you agree, _Captain_?"

Yasha was feeling the strange weight of the sword in his hand, though his anger was undoubtedly more unwieldy. The sword was a weapon he didn't handle often, preferring the speed and subtly of a dagger, but being taunted in front of Elsa was making his usually calm demeanor melt away, and he was finding the weight less and less offensive.

Scoffing loudly, he suddenly tore the sword from its sheath, fully intent on giving Johann another lesson in underestimating him. Johann's smile spread further, finding him moving exactly as he had hoped.

"Can I assume you're accepting then?" he said poisonously as he slowly drew his sword.

Yasha tried to get himself under control, though his eyes were set and his muscles tense. His instincts were screaming that this was a bad idea, but his heart wouldn't listen. Once more, he found it difficult to govern it when Elsa was around. Her influence shattered his usual demeanor, and turned him into a rabid beast that would do anything to be the partner he imagined she needed, regardless of what she might say on the matter.

"You may assume what you wish," he snarled, taking a very unusual stance with the sword and keeping the sheath of the sword in his free hand.

By now, the entire training area had gathered to watch the two captains face off against one another, a product of the endless rumors that grew from the dynamic of Yasha's infamy and Johann's entitled destiny, with Elsa and Anna anxiously watching from above. Johann was standing in a traditional stance, his sword leveled professionally before him. As he had always excelled in swordplay, he was far more confident in his chances now than when he had Yasha chained in front of him. It was the entire reason he had thought up this little duel. As he stared at his rival's stance and the way his sword hung in his hand, he smirked heavily, assessing his rival and dissecting the entire moment for the advantages it would give him.

"_He still thinks he's holding a dagger," _he thought, then gave a passing glance to the sheath in his other hand.

"_And that will make things more interesting."_

Without warning, he suddenly lunged with frightening speed and slashed without any consideration of safety. Even Yasha was startled by the ferocity of his strike and was only barely able to deflect it with his own blade, which sang out loudly into the hushed yard. Without a moment's hesitation, Johann continued to attack, striking at his rival as if they were on a true battlefield. Their swords were crying in the morning sun and their feet scuffled through the dusty ground, with everyone watching as the son of the regent faced off against the fiery prince of Fria, as if this match had been forged by the gods themselves and held the very future of Arendelle in every desperate blow.

Back and forth they went, with Yasha falling victim to his opponent's pace. For a moment, Johann was impressed that he was able to parry all of his attacks, for only a rare few had ever given this much resistance, though he soon wanted to make more of a statement with the chance he had been given. It wasn't often he had the perfect opportunity to grab the destiny he had always seen in his dreams.

With an impressive display of footwork, he skillfully made a riposte and his blade flashed brightly, cutting across Yasha's shoulder and slicing open his shirt. A speckling of blood appeared across the white cloth.

Feeling the wound, Yasha leapt back, grunting as he pressed the scabbard across the wound. He was glaring back intensely, panting under the effort he was needing to defend himself from Johann's deft blade. He had rarely met anyone so skilled and was suddenly grateful he had kept the sword sheathed when they had met so intimately in that dark room, though his thoughts of the past were brief, as letting his mind wander for even a moment would allow him to fall victim to another of Johann's pointed strikes. Truthfully and bitterly, he realized he had been overwhelmed by Johann's skill.

Johann was smiling widely and enjoying his dominance over his rival, reveling in the chance to draw a bit of blood. This little exercise was turning out to be exactly what he needed for his bruised ego and could barely contain his excitement.

Elsa, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as amused. "That's enough, Johann!" she cried, looking to the crimson on Yasha's shirt with panic in her eyes. Her fingers were gnarled into the stone railing and she had been fighting the urge to break them apart with a carefully placed burst of magic, yet buried in her chest was the fear of Yasha suffering the grasp of her ice, as the image of him being crushed before her still haunted her dreams. This entire display of men's tempers had bothered her, and in lieu of her magic, she threw her authority across the yard.

"You will stop at once!" she commanded fiercely.

Johann didn't reply, though a smile continued to play across his face, as if this was also part of his designs. He kept looking at Yasha viciously. "You can yield, if you wish," he said quietly, lowering his sword to signal that he would comply with her demands as any good officer would, even as his eyes were goading his rival.

The bait worked perfectly as Yasha suddenly tore his hand away from the wound and lunged to wipe the smile from his face. Now simply defending himself, the regent's son parried the strike easily, though the subsequent assault surprised him for its speed and intensity. Yasha's skill with the sword was barely average by Johann's assessment, but his movements were so quick and precise that it almost made up for the lack of technique. It was amusing that he could be so inept with the sword, as any true prince should have had a lifetime of study to wield the noblest of weapons. He could parry him with only minimal effort and was merely playing the role of the hero in the yard, one that suffered the angry wrath of the criminal before him.

Precisely the type of man Elsa would certainly fall in love with.

As much as he wanted to embellish his role further, his complacency was suddenly rocked as he felt something strike his sword arm and send a jolt of pain through him, making him grunt loudly and focus back on the fight. Using the sheath, Yasha had slashed a painful welt across his arm and Johann instantly realized that even in his offhand, the sheath was far closer to a dagger in weight, and that Yasha was handling it with such skill that he could no longer afford to play around. He started to understand just how dangerous the prince from Fria really was.

As Yasha tried to land a few more wild blows amidst Elsa's wailing objections, Johann suddenly stopped toying with him and made a powerful upward strike, sending a loud, wailing note resounding throughout the air. Several feet away, Yasha's sword went sprawling into the dirt and a gasp rippled through the yard.

The tip of Johann's singing blade was at Yasha's throat and the two of them exchanged such fevered glances that the rest of the world didn't seem to exist for a moment.

In that moment, all that existed was the victor.

"Yasha!" Elsa cried from above, but it didn't move the blade away from him.

Panting now as well, Johann felt the rush of pure ecstasy at defeating him in front of everyone. Even the defiant look in Yasha's eyes didn't diminish his high and he touched the sharp tip of the blade against his skin, feeling its resistance and the pulse that pounded beneath. It was all he could do to keep from pushing further. "Remember this," he heaved potently, taking another moment to enjoy the look of defeat on his face, then slowly pulled his heated blade from his throat.

Elegantly turning from the defeated man, Johann took a deep breath as he faced the queen and politely saluted her with his sword, confident he had appeared to do everything he could to follow her commands, before then marching from the grounds quickly and sliding his victorious blade back into its scabbard. He could already hear as the other men had gone to Yasha and were fawning over his wound, though he cared little for it.

As his escort followed him out, they were gloating loudly at the way their captain had won, in spite of how quiet Johann had become. "See? I told you that fool was no match for our captain," the first barked and elbowed the second, then cast a fond glance onto the man who walked silently before them, "Now everyone knows it. Even the queen was there to see it!"

The second of the guards bellowed out a gritty laugh and agreed, lathering compliments onto Johann as well and sharing in the victorious aura that bled from him.

Amidst their ballyhoo Johann suddenly stopped, looking forward with a strangely annoyed expression. Sweat was beading from his brow and his heart was still racing, showing that while he had been in command of the pace, it hadn't been the simple victory that was expected. He continued to play it over and over in his mind, analyzing it for future reference, when he might once more draw his blade against the prince.

"What's wrong, Captain?" the second man asked.

"_He was able to defend himself with a weapon he was unfamiliar with and still strike me with that sheath. Had it been a dagger, I would have lost the use of my arm," _Johann thought silently as he rubbed the welt, then realized that while he had the definitely advantage over him when it came to swords, he didn't want to consider his chances against Yasha's speed and skill coupled with that black-bladed dagger he carried.

His eyes narrowed angrily.

"_That man is more dangerous than I thought."_

"Captain?" the guard repeated, though Johann suddenly dropped his hands to his sides and continued to walk forward, ignoring the throbbing pain in his arm and eager to consider his next strategy. He had won the day, but there was still much to do if he was going to reclaim his rightful destiny and win the hand of the queen, with no time to worry about insignificant wounds.

"It's nothing. Let's go."


	8. Prevailing Storms

**VIII**

Prevailing Storms

The rain was thundering down on Arendelle in the late spring, soaking the land and moving mountains while the population took sanctuary inside. Such downpours weren't uncommon for the time of year, though this storm was heavier than usual and blanketed the countryside in a frigid humidity that added to the oppression of the rain. Amidst the dank gray of the misty air, the lights of the town and castle perforated the gloom, offering a beacon of refuge to anyone who needed it, although there were those that couldn't enjoy the offer as they stood out in the storm, bound by schedule or by duty and forced to endure the unending assault of the merciless tears of life.

As one of those standing far from Arendelle but still within sight of its glow, Yasha lingered out in the rain even as most of his men had erected shelters and were trying to dry themselves around defiantly burning campfires. He didn't join them, but rather stood with the rain pounding his shoulders, his coat and his hat, which was slung low across his brow in an effort to keep the water from running into his eyes. Those eyes pierced the storm and rested distantly on the murky outline of the castle. His lips were pursed in a pensive frown and his eyes were the only part of him that wasn't soaked by the storm, though he wouldn't relent and take shelter, for to move would mean taking the castle from his sight, though it wasn't the brick and mortar that captured his mood, but rather something far more precious within.

In the gloom of the storm, he swore he could make out the light of Elsa's room.

He had now been a captain of the Guard for several months, suffering the trials that came with it and never finding the time to do what his heart most desired. In spite of the hope it once offered, he had come no closer to finding out who was behind the attacks on his people, though now that he felt the pulse of the world he had been able to drastically cut back their frequency. That victory might have been enough had it not come at such a price.

Due to exhaustion or agenda, he hadn't spent any meaningful amount of time with Elsa, something that had continued to weigh heavily on his heart, especially when he stood within eyeshot of the castle. Due to Anna's appeals, he was keenly aware how much their separation was affecting her as well, though even as he had sworn to do anything to be with her, he found that neglecting his duties even in secret was something he couldn't allow.

Bitterly, he wondered if his honor meant more to him than her affection.

"This is so humiliating. If I'd have known it was going to rain, I'd have stayed in the castle, even if it meant dealing with that frosty snowball," wailed a tiny voice that cut through the percussion of the storm. It was accompanied by a glowering glow within a glass lantern, where a small figure of flame was perched indignantly on an empty base that usually held a wick and oil channel, though was now nothing more than a seat within a prism of glass and solder.

Sid was angrily tapping her foot on the floor of the lantern and glaring out into the violent weather, seeing the water bead against the glass wall that protected her. What aggravated her even worse was that he didn't appear to be paying attention to her complaints.

"Are you even listening to me?" she groused.

"I hear you just fine," Yasha replied. Although the drumming of the rain across him drowned most other sounds, he found it difficult to ever avoid the shrill tone of her voice when she was in a bad mood. "While I am sympathetic to your mood, sometimes we must dwell in the cage around us in order to endure the storm."

"I don't want to stay in any stupid cage to endure any stupid storm. I want to be out of the storm! Why can't we just go back to the castle, where it's warm and dry?" she demanded petulantly.

Yasha sighed. "This is becoming an old discussion, Sid," he replied heavily, "I no longer reside in the castle. I am a captain of the Guard. I go where I am ordered."

"Ugh, you don't need to remind me of all the stupid things you've been doing since we came to this place," she groaned, slumping back on the base and kicking her feet up on the glass as she fumed at their current situation, "You're a prince, not some stupid soldier that stands out in the rain or tromps around in the mud. You should be reading poetry around a warm fireplace or learning how to prance around at parties or some other stupid thing princes do around here."

Sid then looked at her reflection in the glass, reminded of another reason he wasn't like a standard soldier. "And you have the FireHeart. It should be used for something better than keeping a bunch of smelly bunch of guys warm."

At the mention of the ancient orb, he looked back to see if anyone had been around, a glimmer of orange sparking through his eyes, though he found that most of his men were still huddled around the fires and marveling at how neither the wind nor the rain could dim them. Some called it the devil's luck, but no one but Sid and Yasha knew the truth. These fires burned magically. They endured the raging storm by the will of Yasha alone.

"You should not speak of that when others may overhear," he warned, looking to the sprite with glaring eyes. He had kept it a secret for all of this time simply because he was guarded about discussing it, not to mention the fact that it rarely filled him with the same pride that she showed at its mention. "And you know my feelings on the matter. I am still unconvinced it should be used for anything. I did not endure a lifetime of oppression from it just to become an oppressor myself."

She cawed and leaned her head against the glass. His concept of honor was complicated even for her and it came off more as stubbornness than anything. Had it been anyone else, she would have been shocked when he didn't flaunt the powers of the FireHeart and the rightful status he had as the son of King Nazir, but instead his decision to hide that awesome power and run away from his lineage only reassured her that even when the world had been shaken and turned upside down, Yasha would always be Yasha.

It was comforting, but aggravating.

"This is all that snow hussy's fault. Her and her stupid bait of a sister," she hissed, drawing a sharp glance from him. She was possibly the only one who could get away with calling Elsa and Anna such names in front of him, though it was always a weighted risk, like lighting a match in a dark room full of gunpowder. Right now, her mood was foul enough to risk his wrath. "You've thrown away everything because of them! Your magic. Your bloodline. Even that nice, plush room we had with that super-comfortable fireplace! And for what? To stomp around in the rain and keep the town safe from bears and bandits? You don't even care about these people! Why should you do so much for them?"

"I care about Elsa and Anna. It is enough," he replied shortly, looking back to the distant town and wiping the rain from his face.

There was no use denying how he truly felt to Sid, for she was the only one he couldn't lie to. His fierce loyalty to the people of Fria and the way the nobility in Arendelle reacted so callously to the attacks on them had numbed him to the idea of serving Elsa's people as fervently as he did his own, something that contributed to his reputation as someone who acted coldly to anyone but the royal family. That reputation didn't bother him in the slightest, but it did further the dissension between him and Elsa, though he was far too stubborn to see the fault in his behavior.

For him, it was enough to serve Arendelle by serving its queen. He didn't feel obliged to care about anything else.

"Captain?" said a voice through the rain.

Turning to the invader, they found a large soldier braving the storm, his uniform soaked and his bare head exposed to the drumming rage of the rain. Even in the deluge, Yasha recognized him by his sheer size, turning to him and feeling offended by his presence.

"What is it, Thias?" he replied, as cold to him as was the rain.

The large man moved closer with the acknowledgment and carried something in his hand. It was a tin cup and he covered the top with his other hand to keep the rain out. Yasha could see wisps of steam rising between the small gaps in his fingers and lifted his eyes up to the man, eager to hear his report and then send him away. Thias, the large man who had been among the first to learn of Yasha's martial prowess had no such report to give, but rather extended the cup to his captain and continued to fight the urge to wince at the heat biting at his skin.

"Something warm for you to drink," he said, nodding his head to the small sprite as she glowered in the confines of her glass sanctuary. "Hey Sid."

"Yo," she replied casually, flicking a fiery hand out.

As Yasha took the cup from him, he noticed the way the man tried to shake off the heat from the liquid and struggled with the pain from being burned, dwelling how he didn't feel that same pain. Even now, he could feel the heat coming from the tin cup and imagined it should have burned him just as it did Thias, yet there was no pain, and he lost himself in the dark liquid as it was assaulted by large drops of rain, making it thrash and jump from the cup and fall to the ground no differently than the rain that uprooted it.

"Thank you, Thias," he said quietly, though he didn't drink and continued to stare into the struggle of the steaming black sea against the unending siege of rain.

The large man didn't retreat immediately. His attention lingered on the fire sprite for a moment, still fascinated at how such a creature could exist, but also thinking on how she had become a sort of mascot for the men. Her disposition was very much in contrast to his captain's and like most of the others, he thought her presence brought yet another level of distinction for them.

As his attention went back to his captain, he found him staring off at the castle once more and followed his eyes, seeing the rough outline of the spires and dim lights in the dark. He found it remarkable it could even be seen in the storm. "It'd be a lot nicer in the castle right about now, right Captain?" he remarked, thinking at how this man had given up a place there to stand out in the rain with the common soldiers.

Yasha didn't answer, but gazed pensively into the dark, as if the only thing that mattered to him was the light that lingered just beyond his grasp. At the cold reaction, Thias figured it was best to leave him alone and he turned to leave, but Yasha's voice rising above the storm made him pause and look back.

"Why did you join the Royal Guard, Thias?" he asked.

"Why did I join?" he repeated, wondering why he was asking but finding no explanation. He thought a moment, rubbing his wet hair roughly. "My father, I guess. He served in the guard too, though he was lost on the same ship as the king. Come from a long line of guards, I do, and so I figured I'd do the same to honor him."

The reason made a strangely bitter frown cross Yasha's face and Thias thought that he had made him angry somehow, though he was completely lost on the reason. Thinking about how to placate him, he decided that the easiest way was to talk about the one thing he knew was close to his heart. "But now it's all for the queen. What a lovely vision, isn't she? When I think about how we all have to work together in order to keep her safe, I just can't imagine myself doing anything else," he continued, looking to the castle again and feeling pride at his charge, "Not every man gets to serve the most beautiful, kind-hearted queen in all of the lands, that's for sure."

As he looked on to the distant castle, Yasha had been watching him. To hear the reverence these men had for Elsa made his blood warm, for if only a select few could devote their lives to protecting her, it made the one allowed to love her seem like an impossibility.

It suddenly made him want to see her more than anything.

"Thank you, Thias. That will be all. Go get out of this foul rain. Tell the others we will continue when the storm lets up," he ordered.

The man stiffened and saluted him, both happy to officially be ordered out of the rain but also feeling a bit disappointed that he didn't seem to want to chat, though that wasn't out of the ordinary for him. Yasha was notoriously short on small talk to anyone but the queen or the princess. "Yes, Captain," he replied and turned to head back to the others, though something made him stop in the mud and turn back, seeing his figure cut a lonely line through the rain and feeling like there was something he could do to help.

"You're welcome to join us around the fire, Captain. Always," he added.

Yasha moved his eyes beyond him and looked to the ruckus around the largest of the fires. The antics amused him for a moment and he slowly shifted his eyes back. "Perhaps later," he replied, strangely warmed by the offer but not feeling as if he would enjoy himself there.

Thias saluted him once more, then turned and headed back to the others, where he was met with laughter at his soaked appearance and handed another hot cup to drink. Yasha watched as they mingled, seeing the large man playfully use the shirt of another to dry his face, where he was met by a boisterous objection and a fairly rough punch to his shoulder. He realized that his victim was from Fria and that amongst the antics of those rowdy men, there were no lines between them anymore.

In that, there was hope against the bitter feelings he had been suffering as of late.

Turning back to the look at the castle, he lifted his cup to his lips and took a sip, though found the liquid had become cold and diluted from the rain water. It tasted terrible and didn't warm him, and he gloomily spit it out to the mud at his feet. Sighing, he tossed the rest of the liquid as well and lowered the empty cup to his side, looking back to the distant castle and sighing against the drumroll of the rain. Sid was keen to his mood and thought better about continuing her lecture, instead settling uncomfortably in her lantern and kicking her foot against the glass wherever a droplet of rain might appear, if only to pass the time.

The both of them were trapped in their cages by necessity, able to see through the bars but not pass through them. To breach them would mean to threaten the things that composed them, and even though it was well within both of their powers to simply step outside, it was the bars themselves that kept the storm at bay, and forced them to accept that even a prison could be an asylum when all that defined it was the reverence of one's heart.


	9. Animals in the Mists

**IX**

Animals in the Mists

After the rains had stopped and the forests were full of mists and shadows, a single rider moved quickly through the mud, clad in a heavy cloak and focused in purpose. It was a place far from any village or town, where the wilderness was a feral place. Only a few animals had come out from their refuge and the rider felt like the only one brave enough to travel the world, making the sound of puckering mud and running water the only accompaniment to his presence.

The air was cool enough that barely visible puffs of vapor came from underneath the hood and the horse's snout, and the rider stiffly rode through the mists, one hand on the reins and the other resting carefully close to the hilt of his sword. Coming across a clearing of stumps and fallen timber, the rider stopped, scanning the empty forest for its secrets. The unnatural silence drew the man's hand tightly across the sword and he let out a few plumes of anxious breath, his green eyes focused on the mist and his mouth twisted into a nervous frown.

"I know you're there. Come out slowly," he called.

Silence answered him, but only for a moment. Soon, an army of gray figures began to appear in the peripherals of the mist, large hulking masses that reeked of murderous intent. None of them came close enough to show their features, but the rider could count more than a dozen of them. There were more than he anticipated, though he understood that their number didn't matter. The danger didn't deter him from coming.

"Well, if it isn't the little boy come into the woods to play," growled a deep voice from the mist and came attached to the largest hulk of all, forming a great shadow before the rider and casting the form of a vicious bear into the grove.

This man was the only one to come close enough to reveal himself and the rider tried to steady his horse against the pressure he brought. The beast was covered in muscles and scars, with a filthy brown armoring him and flowing jaggedly into the bristly beard that covered most of his face. The massive, stained jaws of the bear head bit at his head, as if the animal were still trying to devour him from the top down. On the bear's back was a massive, ornate axe that sat in stark contrast to his feral appearance, for it was plated with gold and silver, yet also showed scabs of black blood still worked into the places where even careful cleaning couldn't purge it.

The rider stirred anxiously as the bear drew near. "I didn't come to play, Volgard. I came to speak with you," he replied in a voice unable to mask the intimidation he felt.

"Then speak, little princeling of Arendelle. We're waiting to hear what brings you so far from the safety of your castle," the bear growled.

The rider hesitated a moment, the reached up and drew back his hood, revealing an uncharacteristic expression on Johann's face. It was a mixture of fear, indignation and command, as if a mixture of those things might somehow bring this brute in line.

So far, it didn't seem to be working.

"I don't need the titles or the audience. I would speak to you alone," he demanded.

The bear laughed in a voice that rumbled through the forest and he gestured around at the shadows in the mist. "What difference is there between the men you can see and ones you can't?" he replied in an oppressive voice, and that amusement was echoed by the voices and laughter of the men all around them, something that convinced Johann that he wasn't bluffing when he claimed there were more men than he could see and that he was in no position to object to it, or anything else.

"And I'll call you anything I like, princeling, when you're standing in the halls of _my_ kingdom."

Taking a deep breath, Johann kept his hand on his sword and tried to keep his fears in check, if only to get back to the matter at hand. "I've come concerning your attacks on the caravans," he said, feeling sweat line his back despite the cool air all around him, "I think we need to reconsider our agreement."

The bear lost the amusement in his face. "Do we?"

"Things are progressing in the castle, but there have been complications concerning a particularly annoying nuisance of a man," Johann replied disdainfully, cursing under his breath that he was being forced to personally come in order to put things back onto the right track.

The bear grunted. "This prince that became a soldier. The man you can't pry from the legs of your queen," he said with equal parts insult and annoyance at how effective the subject was at foiling his raids against the caravans.

Johann scowled at how informed the bear was and the insults to Elsa's chastity, but also at how accurate his words found the mark. He wasn't quite sure which bothered him more. "Yes, that one. The space between them grows, but he gets closer to you each time you attack the caravans, and as such gets closer to me as well. He cannot discover the link between us, or this entire thing will have been for naught."

"Then we take care of him on the next raid. There's no faster way to take the heart of a woman than by taking the heart of a man," the bear snorted.

"You can't do that," Johann warned, watching the look of anger come over the bear's face, "If you were to kill a captain of the Guard, even one that comes from a ragged group of refugees, the entire barracks would comb the countryside for you and you'd go from being a nuisance that no one really cares about to someone I could no longer cover for." He didn't expect a beast to understand the finer details of the aristocracy or how one destroyed someone without killing them. He only expected him to go where needed and bite whoever was at the end of his finger. "No, you can't simply hack through this with swords and axes. You have to give me time to deal with him, but I need you to stop the attacks until I do, especially as he's now gotten some of the merchants from Arendelle traveling in the caravans. The man is more cunning than I gave him credit for."

"I don't care who's in the caravans, or that this rival of yours comes closer. I only care about what I can take," Volgard sneered.

The remark made Johann bristle and grit his teeth at the volatile nature of the beast. "You won't endanger the people of Arendelle. That was the agreement. You will stop the attacks until I can deal with the problem, or I will consider our agreement void and you'll soon find a full contingent of guards with every caravan from here on out."

By now, the bear was heaving angrily. Foam was gathering at the corners of his lips. "I'm not a patient man, princeling, and I don't take orders from bratty kids who can't even wipe their own arses. The only reason I've played with you so far is because of how well I've been compensated for this little agreement, but if I don't raid the caravans, I don't get paid. If I don't get paid, then I have to find other ways to appease my boys here," he said in a heavy tone that struck Johann for its venom.

"What are you getting at?" he asked sharply.

"As you said, if anyone were to find out about our agreement, everything you've earned would go up in smoke. You might even find yourself locked in a pretty little cell somewhere in the castle, never to see that steamy little queen of yours again. Wouldn't that be a shame?" Volgard suggested with a yellow grin piercing his wiry beard.

Johann felt his heart race and his hand tighten around the hilt of his sword. This was one of the dangers of his dealings with such a wild beast, though he had been certain enough the spoils of the raids were enough to keep him satisfied. Now that he was threatening to reveal his efforts to shield the bandits from the attention of the Royal Guard, he was coming to realize that he really had no leverage to keep the beast at bay. He felt panicked by how little control he actually had. "You'd be a fool to try. The word of a murderer and a thief cannot be weighed against the word of a captain and the son of the regent, and I'm very sure I could no longer keep the Royal Guard from finding that cabin in that cabin of yours. And wouldn't _that_ be a shame?" he replied.

Volgard was heaving, his breath coming out in raspy grunts as he tried to control his anger. Like Johann, he wasn't getting exactly what he wanted from this agreement, though it had secretly made him richer than he had ever imagined. However, that wasn't enough for him, especially when he knew that there were far more valuable treasures.

Despite his confession, he sometimes knew when to be patient in order to take the bigger purse.

"All right, you little ferret. You've made your point. Go back to your castle. Deal with this nuisance of yours, but be warned that beasts don't linger in the mist forever. If you neglect them long enough, they'll come out when you least expect it," he growled, relaxing his posture much to the surprise of his men and Johann both.

The young captain, not wanting to risk letting his sudden victory disappear, reined his horse back, keeping his eyes on the beast as long as he dared, then quickly spurred the animal away into the mists with every expectation of catching an arrow in the back, yet finding that true to his word, Volgard simply let him leave and continue his plan to destroy Yasha and win Elsa.

In the clearing, another of the beasts approached the bear, not hiding his disgust at sudden submission. "You can't be serious, Vol. What do you expect us to do while he dances around the castle with that frosty whore of his? The men want coin, not empty promises! You haven't even cut us in on the loot from the old man!" he rallied, finding that if a snotty brat from a castle could push around the bear, a seasoned murdered should be able to do very well for himself.

Suddenly, a great paw swiped out and snatched the man by his throat, making him hack loudly and grasp frantically at the thick forearm of the beast. With the powerful paw strangling the breath from him, he could barely focus on the devilish smile on the beast's face. He couldn't even draw a weapon to defend himself. Trying to hack out a cry for mercy, the man fell to his knees and did all he could to break free, though it was all in vain as the world slipped into a red haze around him and he felt everything fade to black.

The last thing he would ever see was the vicious smile of the leader of Kobold, Volgard the Bear.

"Jann!" the bear roared and tossed the dead man to the ground at his feet. None of the other shadows stirred except for a single man that appeared next to the bear, ignoring the body and looking calm, as if this were just another part of their dangerous occupation.

Volgard set his eyes upon him and let a great bellowing laughter fill the forest once more. "I want you to take what you need from the lodge and find me fifty more men! I don't care where you get them. Make sure they're as ready for ice and snow as they are arrows and spears," he snarled, taking the mammoth axe from his back and looking over the countless scars and scabs that marked its fouled appearance. While his mind furiously worked over the details of his plan, he thought of how lightly he was being taken, as if anyone one could lull a bear with sweet talk and shiny trinkets.

Sometimes, a bear wanted something far more primal and soft to the touch.

"Noblemen. Aristocrats. Bah! I've had enough dealing with them and the way they slither around to sneak up on what they want. We've more than enough loot to move for the real hoard. The pox on all ferret-headed princelings! We know how to get what we want, don't we boys?"

"We just take it."

* * *

Upon entering his room, Johann threw his muddy cloak onto the couch angrily as he went over his meeting with the bear in his mind, unsure why he felt so heated despite accomplishing everything he set out to do. With Kobold laying low, he could capitalize on the distance that had formed between Elsa and her beloved prince, using Yasha's obvious bias to continue driving them apart until not even she could ignore the disdain he had for the people of Arendelle. While the man's popularity among the Guard was strong, he was despised among the nobility and that mistrust bled like poison through the royal court, forcing the queen to choose between her position and her heart, something that would ultimately break her sponsorship of him. Everything seemed to be going in his favor, and the son of the regent stood poised to win all that he wanted as he withdrew the proud sword from his belt, then threw it indignantly onto the floor. As he stood pushing his hands back through his sweaty hair, his breath hissed as he forced a tired breath between his teeth and he stared at the mud on his boots, his eyes heavy and his lips tight. Even with the world at his fingers, he wasn't happy or proud of what he had to do to get what he wanted.

If anything, it was the exact opposite.

"You appear troubled," said a voice in his room and Johann nearly jumped from his skin, whirling around with a hand finding the empty space where his sword had just been. After the dealings with the bandits, he was jumpy and irritated, so the intrusion was unwelcome until he found the source of the voice sitting causally in the dark, holding a smoldering cigar and a nearly empty glass of bronze liquid in his hands.

It was obvious that the regent had been waiting for him. "Father?" Johann stuttered, trying to straighten and hide the annoyance in his face, "I didn't expect you to be out so late."

"I would say the same to you, Johann," he replied, idly taking a puff on his cigar and analyzing every answer his exhausted son would offer. "The head of the watch reported that you'd gone for a ride this morning and only recently returned. It's not like you to take such long rides unescorted."

Johann winced. His father was the last person he wanted to find out about his dealings, though he was confident he had covered his tracks and left no avenue for its discovery. No one knew about his agreement with Volgard, not even those guards he trusted most. Even his father's vigilant grasp on the kingdom couldn't have clued him into the details of his meeting, so the younger man began to play off the disappearance as nothing more than fodder for the gossip hounds. "Please, Father, must you pry into every aspect of your son's life?" he remarked, feigning amusement and casually strolling further into his room.

He ended up leaning against a desk and crossing his arms over his chest, smiling widely as he began his performance. "Did you know there's a town to the north where they've the most beautiful women? Voldine, I believe they call it. The butchers, the farmers, even the magistrate. Nothing but beautiful women. They say you can spend an entire day there and come home more exhausted than you even thought imaginable, but bearing a smile that lasts a week," he continued, speaking as if this were all hearsay and no one of their stature would ever be caught partaking in such a thing, though he was certain the regent would catch his meaning and embrace his alibi, especially as the revered statesman was notoriously promiscuous in his youth.

"Well, that's what they say at least," he added coyly.

The old man couldn't mask the smile that played at the corners of his lips, though he was equally coy as he puffed on his cigar and filled the room with a heavy, overbearing scent. "Is that what my son does on days away from his duties? Indulge in idle fornication in a village of vixens and harpies," he remarked, raising his brows to see how he parried the blow. "I'm not sure the queen would appreciate such behavior from a man that seeks to be her husband."

"What the queen doesn't know won't hurt her. Besides, isn't it best to indulge in such behavior _before_ one takes the hand of the queen, and not after? I'm quite sure Mother would have agreed with me on that," Johann replied, finding that these petty word exchanges were more to his taste than growling at wild animals in the woods.

Again, the regent was amused at his son. "That she would have, bless her eternal soul," he agreed.

As usual, he found his son was certainly able to play these games with no real difficulty, though it was the game of another kind that drew his concerns and made his smile fade as he carefully looked over his dying cigar. "And how was the journey to this Voldine of yours? Did you come across any wild animals along the way?" the regent inquired, inspecting the glowing embers and letting his eyes slowly shift to notice the paling expression his son wore.

"A bear, perhaps?"

Johann stared at his father in utter disbelief. There was no conceivable way he would know about the meeting with Volgard, yet his choice of words left no reason to doubt that he knew of it, and that his insidious way of broaching the subject was far more fearsome than simply bursting forth with anger and admonishments.

"Bears, Father? I'm not sure what you mean by..." he began, showing his obvious anxiety over the question.

"Johann," the regent interjected, his voice dominating the room and bringing the young man's excuses to a grinding halt, "Do you know how best to deal with wild animals?" His son had no answer and the old man looked over his cigar thoughtfully. "They're most valuable when they're muzzled, and most dangerous when they're not. Whether they have fangs or claws or fur so thick that not even a spear could pierce them, as long as you keep them in the mud like the dogs they are, they'll never turn their fangs against you. Only then may you command them as you will."

"Do you understand?"

In the dim light of Johann's room, the regent's eyes were glowing in the light of the dying fires of tobacco and exotic spices. There weren't many moments when his father truly frightened him, yet Johann had never felt as fearful of the man as he did at that moment. He spoke as if he carried the very world in his pocket and that nothing that transpired was out of his control. A tremor surged through him and he couldn't grasp the depth of his father's words, as if he spoke a completely different language. He had no idea what his father knew and what his father was trying to say.

"Yes, Father," he said, lying as much as he was telling the truth.

"Mm," the regent grunted, appeased by his son's submission and eagerly drinking the last of his drink, then letting the glass chime loudly as he set it upon the side table, with the cigar tossed carelessly inside, "Now then, have a seat, boy. I didn't come here to speak you of bears and brigands, but of something far more important."

Intrigued and still shaken, Johann obediently took the seat across from him and tried to make himself comfortable, though in the current atmosphere that seemed utterly impossible. The best he could do was fully hide the absolute interest he had in the tone in his father's voice, one that spoke of the currents of the world and the place he had among them.

"Let us talk about your future."


	10. Sudden Joys Have Sudden Endings

**X**

Sudden Joys Have Sudden Endings

Through the halls of the castle, Elsa's footsteps carried heavy echoes of the harried sense of purpose in her eyes, her red lips pursed tightly in feelings of betrayal and anger burning within her chest. Those that witnessed her storming across the grounds had rarely seen her so worked up, making them wonder if they might soon see a repeat of the harrowing storms that had once glazed the kingdom with ice and snow. Everyone gave her a wide berth as she made her way directly towards the barracks of the Royal Guard.

She headed towards the officer's hall, and the guards on post there did best to try and ward her away, though when faced with the fury in her eyes, they didn't stop her from charging against the looming doors that were closed tightly before her.

Instead, they wisely stepped aside.

The doors to the meeting burst open and in stormed the queen, shattering Regent Stenson's speech as all eyes moved to her. Her anger was obvious and her eyes were flying around the room, trying to locate the many objects of her intent. The first she found was Yasha, standing near the front of the gathering, wearing a weary expression on his face. Her eyes naturally lingered on him in a mixture of emotions, but soon moved on and found Johann, a sight that made them narrow considerably. The young man was at the center of the things and looking back with a sort of amused expression, as if he didn't share the dread the others wore. The look on his face only made her angrier.

As much as she wanted to do something about it, she sought out Regent Stenson and locked her cold stare on him before continuing into the hall, her steps thundering across the silent floor until she stood before them all, her hands clenched at her sides and the air drawing vaporous plumes of breath from all around her.

"I demand an explanation about Baron Wingate!" she shouted.

The regent took a deep breath and settled his hands behind his back, looking very much annoyed by her presence but masking it as well as he ever had. While he had been certain of her reaction, he was surprised by how quickly news spread around the castle, making him marvel at how some parts of the world escaped even his seasoned expectations. The whispering walls of the castle were a terrifying machine, even to him.

"I assure you, Your Highness, that I was just on my way to discuss that matter with you," he replied casually.

"You should have discussed it with me before he stepped down! As queen, I should be involved in any changes with the kingdom, especially when it comes to the one who will lead the Royal Guard. I shouldn't be the last person to hear of such things!" she barked sharply, not sparing him any of her anger in spite of being in front of the ranks of her guards.

"He made the decision of his own accord, citing a few of his more recent failures. And we most certainly didn't intend to sneak the good baron out from under your nose with no explanation," he explained calmly. It didn't seem to appease her and he once more sighed, in spite of his precarious position. "Needless to say, Your Highness, it would have been negligent of me to speak of it without already having a successor. The baron of the Guard is very important to the safety of the queen and the princess, if not Arendelle itself. We wisely shouldn't leave the position vacant for long, which is why we stand here now with all of the officers of the Guard. We are nominating your new baron."

The revelation made her eyes instantly move to Yasha and her heart fluttered in her chest, a reaction that was lost upon no one in the room. It was an aspect of the crisis that she hadn't considered, as any baron of the Guard was traditionally chosen from the standing ranks of captain, a position that Yasha now held. Instantly, she realized that this was exactly what she had been hoping for, a chance for him to become a noble of Arendelle and be in a position where they could be open about their relationship. She couldn't even mask the hopeful smile that dragged the edge of her lips apart, but the heated expression on his face suddenly warned her that things weren't as perfect as she was hoping and that he didn't appreciate the opportunity as she did.

His expression was contagious and she slowly looked back to the regent, aware of the pit in her stomach and the weight coming down upon her heart.

She asked the question, even fearfully knowing the response.

"Who do you nominate?"

The regent smiled and gestured forward to the one who proudly stood right before her as the answer to all of her demands. "My son Johann," he replied.

There was the feeling of broken glass in her chest and she let out a jagged breath, moving her eyes slowly to Johann. He was still smiling at her, but it seemed cold and calculated, as if all of the glacial winds and churning storms of the world had finally aligned him to her. There was no hint of the doubt that had plagued him lately, for he appeared like a man that knew if he weren't now standing on top of the world, he soon would be. It made her step back and feel her anger turn to dread, unable to believe she didn't see this coming. She had so far been able to avoid his overtures because he didn't have the station to force her to consider him, but that was all rapidly changing and he would soon be able to make a formal bid for her hand, something she couldn't dismiss as easily as before. With the weight of the regent behind him, her refusal might have torn the kingdom in two, and that was something she had been desperately avoiding out of the sheer bitterness of seeing her actions pave over its tranquility, as it had once before.

"He's a fine man, Your Highness," the regent continued, drawing on her apparent mood to begin the process of molding the world around her into the one he had long seen in his dreams, "While I realize that, strictly speaking, he's only been captain for a short time, I don't think you'll find anyone more capable of filling Baron Wingate's shoes. He's a bit young and unquestionably has much to learn, but most of the court has already given their support of his promotion."

"As have all of the other captains."

Elsa gasped as she stared at him, the information taking a few moments to fully sink in, then instantly looked to Yasha, who continued to stare forward with no reaction. If what the regent said was true, it meant that even he had given his support of Johann, something that she found nearly impossible to believe. The very idea that he was complacent in this development was compounded by the dearth of affection they had suffered lately, fueled further by his unstable behavior in regards to his people's plight and the way it drove the tension between them. Sadly, she felt as if she had no idea what he was thinking anymore and she kept her eyes on him, waiting for him to offer some kind of rationale at letting this happen, even if it came in nothing but the fury in the eyes she thought she knew so well.

The regent continued, watching her very closely. "Still, if Your Highness wishes, you may suggest anyone capable enough to lead the Royal Guard. It's your right to sanction or object to any candidate, after all."

"Is there anyone you would choose from your captains?"

Her lips parted without hesitation, though she was frozen instantly by a sharp glance from Yasha, who only then granted her desires to be the center of his attention. Their eyes met across this sea of misfortune and her heart staggered as he slowly, almost without the notice from others, shook his head, sealing away her bid to support him.

Without the noise of words, she already knew his thoughts and why he was stopping her, revealing that despite their recent distance and the apparent recession of their tides, there was still the undeniable connection they shared and the affinity they couldn't escape. The perfect path before them was an illusion. There was no way he would have enough support to secure the appointment, and she would appear to be letting her emotions influence her decisions.

That was a critically dangerous thing, as many in the kingdom remembered how her emotions affected her powers.

Seeing as her objections were meaningless against the will of the court and also feeling betrayed by the overwhelming support of Johann's appointment, Elsa let her eyes linger on Yasha only a moment longer before she turned from them, her shoulders quivering under the weight of this development. From him, above all else, she felt the crushing pain of disappointment in her heart, as if his actions had been the hardest ones to swallow.

"No," she replied to the regent's question, then quickly retreated from the hall as distraught as she had entered it.

"There's no one."

Feeling the cool air leave after her, everyone seemed to take a breath and settle, though the meeting couldn't instantly recover. There was movement and murmurs in the ranks, yet the regent didn't immediately dismiss it, as it was rich fuel for the inferno he had ignited. He was instead looking at Yasha, a perverse sort of gleam in his eye, for there weren't many ways one could burn a phoenix, and because it appeared to truly temper the fire in the young man's eyes.

It was only fitting to enjoy the moment for what it was worth.

"Now then," the regent suddenly barked, after letting the whispers slither through the room, "If there are no more interruptions, I believe we may consider this a done deal. As the queen has given her consent, let's congratulate our new baron of the Royal Guard."

A wave of agreement washed through the officers as they rushed forward, looking to shake hands with Johann as they raised him to the highest place in Arendelle's armed guard, giving him the prominent position of looking after the kingdom's best interests and safeguarding the royal family, as it had been since antiquity. With the hand of the regent cast over the move, there were no objections or hesitations among those that felt the weight of the blood behind the appointment. To many, this was a forgone conclusion. To others, this was merely the next step on the path that would someday see a crown atop his head. Regardless of the fairy tales and backroom chatter of reluctant kings and lonely queens, this was the reality of the world and the way it seemed destined to flow.

In the midst of that moment, the new baron let his attention drift the only officer not engaged in the antics, watching with overwhelming delight as Yasha stood to the side, an outsider even among this bartered place. His eyes were still cast on the closed doors of the halls, where Elsa had stormed out wrapped in her own chains of misery.

The further dissension between them made a wry smile cross the face of the new baron.

"_Oh Yasha, you've not yet begun to know despair."_

* * *

In the first weeks of the new baron's reign over the Royal Guard, there was an unnatural calm that settled over the kingdom, with movements in the background obscured by the everyday business of guarding the world, the queen and the princess. Johann's appointment was embraced by the whole of the court, as expected. The transition from Baron Wingate was smooth and painless, and the new baron picked up his duties with no real difficulty. It was as if the change was destined in the stars and even Elsa had no real complaints over how well the young baron had taken up this charge, even if the details behind the appointment were still bitter and fresh in her heart.

The other arena where expectations were fulfilled completely was the role Yasha would play in this new world order. Under the orders of the new baron, the captain-prince from Fria found himself on the fringes of the schedule, given the most undesirable rotations that kept him out all night on patrols, setting him adjacent to the world of the queen. At the dawn of this new era, he became the moon, indefinitely set to linger in the sky opposite of Elsa's sun, with no time afforded them and no chance for them to meet. While the bitterness of Johann's appointment had slowly fallen away to a longing to see the other, exhaustion from their duties ensured that even if there were a passing moment when both of them were in the castle, the weariness of flesh and the vigilant eyes of the court denied them the carefree moments they had taken for granted, leaving them in such a terrible place that even their hearts began to wilt under the domination of the moment.

As a statement to the depth of his resolve, the new baron didn't relent in the pursuit of his destiny even for a moment.

On a particularly tiring day, when the exhausted sun was just starting to dip into the distant horizon to allow the moon to once more rise, Elsa listened to the door close quietly behind her, her shoulders drooping and her eyes closed. Her body ached from standing all day, suffering the monotony of her schedule and the wear of her duty, though the idea of finally lying down in her bed and resting didn't pretend to offer the same relief to her aching heart, which still beat firmly for absent lover.

Hugging herself as proxy, she desperately longed to be with him as a shaky breath escaped her lips.

Disturbing her melancholy, the door behind her was rattled with a firm knock, shaking her from the despair long enough to try and imagine who would be bothering her after such a long day. Alight to her mood, her heart betrayed her reason and she projected the object of her desires into the place on the other side of the door, imagining that it was her handsome, beloved prince standing there, having broken away from the schedule and defied everything to be with her.

Such thoughts made her chest rise and her hand flew out to the handle, wrenching the door wildly open and showing her hopeful smile to the one that she expected to find waiting to take her into his arms.

In the foulest instance of disappointment, she found Johann waiting on the other side.

"Pardon the intrusion, Your Majesty," he said politely, "May I have a moment?"

Elsa was devastated by her own expectations. "What is it, Johann? I'm very tired," she sighed, leaning against the door and rubbing her hand across her tired brow as an excuse to not look at him.

"I have a few things that I need you to look over," he answered, watching her intently and holding out a few pages of carefully inscribed papers. "It won't take long, I assure you."

She sighed as she lay her head against the door, looking down to the papers and the way they offended her. She was in no mood to play queen and she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the pervasive need to try and protect herself around him. "Can't it wait until tomorrow? It's been a long day and I'm getting ready to go to bed."

"While nothing here is so important that the castle would burst into flames should you wait, I'd prefer it if you'd look over them now," he replied, a pernicious smile working over the corner of his lips as he considered her stated desires to go to bed.

"Though I'd never dream of denying you the pleasure of a warm bed," he added in a tone that wasn't so subtle.

A fierce wave of red came over her cheeks as she burned in indignation, finding that his new role had emboldened him and blurred whatever line he saw in addressing her. Angrily, she felt the overwhelming desire to turn his head into an ice cube for the perverse posture he showed her, though that would certainly complicate matters in the kingdom. Instead, she felt the best way to dismiss him was to simply give him what he wanted, at least in terms of the flimsy demands he made by holding the papers out.

Snatching them from his hand, she turned her back against the door and used it for support, sighing once more as she looked over the content and avoiding the feel of his eyes upon her. The reports were inconsequential, a smattering of petty crimes and new recruits, along with a few suggestions that she barely noticed as she shuffled them around. It was hardly worth her time or her mood, yet she was already keenly aware the reports were merely an excuse to force her to acknowledge his presence.

To defy him, she began to search the papers for the only thing within that could capture her as he desired.

She searched for Yasha's name among the schedules.

"You know, I don't believe I've ever been in the queen's chambers before," Johann suddenly remarked, his eyes wandering around the room as he could see it from the outside. His observation was met by her silence, either because she was too busy searching the papers or because she simply didn't want to acknowledge his shameful remark.

The response drew an impatient smirk across his face, and the young baron decided to test the limits of his new position.

Without warning, he stepped past her and entered her chambers, casually strolling with his hands behind his back and his eyes searching the room for all of its secrets. The invasion didn't draw the same quiet response as she instantly looked up from the papers, her mouth hanging open in disbelief and her eyes flashing in anger. No one had ever been so impetuous as to simply walk into her room without being invited, especially with her standing right there.

The air became noticeably colder.

"Excuse me? What do you think you're doing?" she demanded in an icy tone.

He pretended to be surprised by her response as he faced her from the middle of the room, like he considered pushing himself there to be his very birthright. "There's no cause for alarm, Your Majesty. As the one ultimately tasked with your safety, I don't think it's unheard of to inspect your chambers for possible security concerns. After all, there have been more than a few accounts of shadows being seen on your balcony," he replied candidly.

Elsa's neck burned and his papers hung forgotten at her side. She could barely control her anger. "You won't just barge in here without my permission. And while I appreciate your concerns, _Baron…_" she growled, though her eyes and her tone fell sharply as she felt the weight of her next words. They were powerful enough to eclipse her reaction to his offense.

"That shadow hasn't been seen here for many weeks."

"I see," he said, still not moving from her chambers and showing that he was using this opportunity, and her obvious exhaustion, to press forward with his true agenda. "You know, I feel this tension is unwarranted, Elsa, especially when there's actually so much history between us. Did you know that I often saw you in these halls as a child, though I was never allowed to approach you because of the wishes of our fathers?"

Hearing him call her by her name sent another wave of anger through her, though his sudden civility threw her off balance, especially as he spoke of days she had tried hard to forget. It was hard to imagine him as a young child, though she had no memories of seeing him or anyone else in those halls.

Those halls had always been empty.

"That's for the better. At the time, I might have accidentally turned you into a block of ice," she replied, hoping he would catch the point that if that were to happen now, it wouldn't be by accident.

Johann showed no sense of catching it. "Indeed. Everyone was so concerned about these powers of yours, especially after you harmed the princess," he remarked, making sure to remind her of those terrible times. "I was sworn to secrecy by my father, but to be honest, I didn't care about the powers. I didn't care about the danger. I saw something beautiful that was hurting and I wanted nothing more than to protect it from anything that would do it harm. You might even say it was love at first sight, the first time I'd ever felt that way about anyone."

This softer side of him had the effect of thawing her cold response, though in all of her fatigue, she had trouble deciding which was the real him, the viper or the knight. Thinking about how much different her life would have been had she been allowed to be a normal child playing with kids her age and not living in constant fear of the magic, she let out a genuine sigh and rubbed her arm timidly, casting her eyes away and trying not to see this warmth he offered.

"It really was for your own good, Johann. I couldn't control it. I might have really hurt you, like I did Anna," she admitted, giving him the benefit of a place in her world.

"I was willing to take the risk, in spite of any danger," he replied, slowly turning his eyes back on her and showing that in this, he wasn't lying, "And I still am. I still love you, you know. I still want to protect you. That's why I've done all of this, become _this_, just so I can fulfill the one dream that's always existed in my heart."

"To love you, and have you love me in return."

Hearing this admission in the open, her hand clenched at her arm and her brow furrowed. Strangely, it was comforting to hear these things when her heart had been through so much pain, though she didn't melt into the fantasy as he hoped, and she still harbored her uncontrollable desires to be with the one she did love. Johann's story was tempting, steeped in pedigree and emotional memories that tied him to her, but the overriding truth of her heart was that the depth of his professed love was shallow compared to her own feelings, the ones reserved for another.

Fantasy gave away to the truth, and the truth was that she loved Yasha more than she could explain to him.

"I'm sorry, Johann. While I appreciate your feelings, I can't return them. Please understand," she whispered, finding it strange that dealing him this blow could cause such pain in her heart. She was surprised by her own sympathy for him.

Although she wasn't looking, a wave of anger washed over his face and his hands clenched at his sides. For the first time since those faded days when he saw her distantly in the hallways, feeling his young heart beat at the nobility of loving such a fragile thing, he had expressed his true feelings, only to be denied by a shadow that existed despite all of his efforts to dispel it. It was as if countless years of his life were slipping away from him, relegating him to the peripherals of the false story of Arendelle, the one that would see his queen crown another.

"Isn't it enough for you?" he suddenly said, stepping towards her in a bearing that instantly put her on edge and plastered her back against the door, her eyes wide and her hands gnarled in anxiety. "Isn't it enough that I've longed for you, thought of you every day of my life, cast myself into a man that could stand against the world and protect you from it? Haven't I proven myself worthy to love you?" he uttered in a voice she had never known before, if only for the fearsome possession dripping from every tone.

As he backed her against the door, he could smell the scent of her hair and skin, with not even the sweat of the day fouling this appreciation he had of her. The way her breathing was quivering in her chest was more intoxicating than any drink and he could plainly see himself reflected in her beautiful blue eyes.

All of it screamed to him of why he had to love her, and why she could do nothing but love him in return.

"It wouldn't be so bad, you know. Being in love with me. I'm not the monster you think I am, and you might find the experience somewhat...stimulating," he crooned, his hand dangerously close to touching her bare shoulders and his eyes examining every aspect of her timid, beautiful form. "Naturally, some things would have to change, but I think we're quite compatible."

"Some things would have to change?" she repeated, trying to contain her disbelief and the magical response she so desperately wanted to give him.

He nodded, his eyes clouded over by dreams and lifelong expectations. "Certainly," he replied, taking the opportunity to carefully reach up and touch his fingers to her platinum-blonde braid. "This, for example. And the dress. As my queen, you'd need to portray a more modest image. We can't have everyone thinking we just let it go," he explained, almost laughing at the very idea of letting her remain the free-willed, carefree woman that she was now. It was obvious that his father had been a bit too accommodating in letting her stretch her wings. He planned on making her into the queen everyone would want her to be. The perfect queen. "The magic as well. No more frivolous displays of ice here and there. No more ice rinks and no more talking snowmen. Such things would be unnecessary in our union."

"We'd be the perfect couple, you and I. Beautiful, regal. The true future of Arendelle."

Elsa was appalled by this image he had of her. It was chilling to hear him speak so honestly about his love, yet at the same time see her as nothing more than a doll that needed to be groomed and dressed. This young baron was already speaking as if he had taken the crown from her head, something that reminded her of an ambitious young prince that had been willing to do the same.

The correlation didn't sit well with her. "I'm not some statue for you to mold, Johann, and this love you have for me doesn't sound like love at all. It sounds like ownership," she warned, pressing off from the door and forcing him to retreat. "Love isn't about causing change, or trying to be the perfect couple. It's about acceptance. The ones that truly love me accept me for who I am and the choices I've made for myself. If loving you means becoming this perfect doll you have in your head, then you can take that 'true future of Arendelle' and dress it up to your heart's content, alone, in your own room, every night."

"I'm the queen of this castle. And I'll decide where my heart belongs."

Johann backpedalled into her chambers with a foul expression his face, unable to figure out where this audacity was coming from. The Elsa he knew was timid and malleable, with a quiet heart and a fearful expression on her face. He had seen her for a few fleeting moments as he laid out his grand plans for her, only to have this imposter surface with foolish notions of independence and this overwhelming sense of self. This woman before him wasn't the queen he saw at his side, but something else entirely. This woman was a pale shadow of the queen he wanted her to be.

His instincts were spurring him to step far beyond the bounds of his station, with a frighteningly lucid desire to strike her welling up. It was the petty response that always rose within him when he didn't get what he wanted, to simply lash out and let the afterthoughts mediate his actions. Strangely, even though he was unsure if even his father's clout could excuse raising his hand against her, it wasn't that uncertainty that stayed his hand, but something far more vivid in his chest as he stared at her.

For first time since he had known her, he worried for the look in her eyes and her ability to bring a frozen retribution upon him.

In truth, he was afraid of her magic.

"So even after all of this generosity I've shown you, this is still your choice?" he growled, barely containing the anger at his trembling hands.

"I follow my heart, Johann. Maybe one day you'll understand that and stop these games that are unbecoming of you," she answered, standing her ground and trying to inform him of his true station to the best of her ability. She didn't want any more confusion between them.

She did not, and would not, ever love him.

His retreat hadn't been in his plans for the evening, though she obviously didn't know the depths of his determination. If she wouldn't come peacefully to his arms, he would find other ways of making his dreams come true, with or without her love or consent. He now had the position. All that was left was the time and the patience to see his designs through.

"I think, Your Majesty, it will be you that comes to your senses one day," he replied as he regained his poise, ominously warning her that even though she had made her intentions perfectly clear, this wasn't over.

Not in the slightest.

Elsa sighed heavily at his refusal to be a better man, though he pushed her far beyond exhaustion and far closer to an icy reprisal than she was willing to admit. Relaxing her hands, she folded her arms in tightly around her, crushing the papers she had received, and stepped to the side, letting her door stand widely open for his departure.

"It's time for you to go."

Johann lingered a moment, though decided that there was nothing left to gain in pushing her and that he was now required to take a different route. Fortunately, as he had already planned for her refusal to see reason, that route was already marked with the villainous slash of his pen, and even as he walked to her door in obvious defeat, a devious smile was playing at his lips as he prepared to have the winning hand for the evening.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said, turning at her foyer and seeing the obvious annoyance it brought up in her eyes. "It's not in the report, but I made a slight change to the watch at your door tonight. It's barely notable, but I think if you happen to be awake at the strike of the morning hour, you may find the change...generous."

The enigmatic aside made her brow furrow in confusion, though he was confident she would come across the truth eventually. Although he wouldn't be there to see it, he imagined the look on her face would be very satisfying and he presented a venomous expression of his own, if only to credit her for the bitter disappointment she had already served him.

"Good night, Your Majesty," he said politely, bowing to her as was expected of him, then left her in a stupor in the depths of her chambers, only able to come to one logical conclusion about the truth he had left so cruelly at her door.

"Yasha," she whispered as the door was closed before her.


	11. Lovers Not Often Lie

**XI**

Lovers Not Often Lie

The strike of the midnight hour found Elsa sitting on the edge of her bed, awake and consumed in thought as she had been since Johann's tense departure. Even though the day had drained her completely, sleep wouldn't come to her in the anticipation of his prophecy, the one that might bring her beloved shadow the closest he had been in what seemed like an eternity. Although she was sure she didn't want to be seen, her face drawn by emotion, her eyes ringed with fatigue and the sweat of the day still clinging to her body, nothing could keep her from waiting for him.

Lately, it seemed like all she did was wait for him.

Her arms wrapped loosely around herself, she was staring at the door at the other side of her room, her heels drumming anxiously across the carpeted floor. From the moment Johann had mentioned the change of her guard, she had been trying to figure out the logic of it, though she could really only come to one conclusion. Yasha was being dangled in front of her in a place where she couldn't reach him, where expectation would separate them more than the door ever could. While that suspicion was bitter and infuriating, all she could think about was being near to him, even if she wasn't allowed feel his touch or the pleasure of being in his arms.

Quietly, she wondered if she would behave as she was supposed to when the time came.

After a few maddening minutes following the strike of the hour, her back straightened as she heard the change of the guard outside. It was a sound that instantly made her jump to her feet and rush to the door, pressing against it softly to listen. There was muffled speaking and the sound of footsteps leading away, followed by the sounds of a person coming to rest at the other side, with her heartbeat marking each moment to the thunderous sound in her chest.

Then there was silence.

For a few moments, she didn't move, but just pressed against the door and felt its solid construction. The hardwood felt chilling against her skin and her eyes fixated on the knob, though her hand wouldn't go near it for any number of reasons, the most potent being that she was afraid that all of her waiting was for naught and someone else was standing outside. That level of disappointment would have been devastating and nearly defeated her intent to endure, though in the end she had no choice but to follow her heart, something she had preached to Johann as being the very reason she would never give up on love.

Curling her fingers, she took a deep breath and knocked on the wood softly.

"What is it, my queen?" said a voice and she instantly recognized it for its sweet, beautiful tone. Just the sound of it sent butterflies through her. It made her heart soar and sink at the same time knowing that it was Yasha standing there, mere inches away, but separated by wood and duty.

The carrot had come into sight. Now it was only a matter of whether or not she would reach for it.

"Is it really you?" she asked, looking thoughtfully at the door, as if she could see him there, handsomely in his uniform and steadfast against anything that would try to harm her.

"Yes," he answered and her chest rose in anticipation, as if he would be the one to open the door between them. To her disappointment, he only offered her a plated oath that didn't satisfy her in the slightest. "I will stand guard tonight. Sleep well, my queen."

"You're expecting a lot of me if you think I can sleep at all with you standing right outside my door," she remarked, smiling bitterly as she ran her fingers down the lacquered wood, imagining it was a part of him.

He was quiet a moment, and his voice then became lighter. "I apologize for the inconvenience."

Elsa smiled only for a moment before her lips collapsed and she pressed her head against the door, trying desperately to listen for him, for his breath or his heartbeat. Her smile came and went, torn between happiness and sorrow, as her eyes examined every grain of wood in the door between them.

"This is the closest you've been in a long time. I'm beginning to think you forgot how to get onto my balcony," she sighed, trying to retain her playful voice but feeling it crack under the weight of her heart.

"There is not a day that passes where I do not retrace the path in my mind, though my heart never forgets the way," he responded in a way that melted her, as if he still commanded the powerful fires of their past. She was happy that he still demonstrated his poetic license, and hearing that his days passed in thoughts of her made her smile linger, though the air outside her door became heavy once more.

"But you know why I cannot come there, no matter how much I wish to see you," he added quietly.

Elsa knew why indeed, even if it seemed like a frail reason to abandon love. Despite their royal bloodlines, there was a tyrant in their lives, and she struggled to find the courage tell him of things that she knew would infuriate him, though some selfish part of her wanted him to be infuriated, if only to remind her of just how hotly his flame burned.

"Johann came here earlier. He entered my room and was insistent about his desires for my hand," she said quietly, feeling her hands over the door for some hint of his mood. There was no answer for a time, and she swore she could feel the heat seeping through the door. It made a flight of panic rise in her chest.

"Yasha?" she asked, opening her eyes and wondering if it had been a mistake in telling him.

The hallway was a kiln of Yasha's anger. Had it not been the middle of the night, anyone passing carelessly through the halls would have found him bleeding off waves of heat, his body tense and his eyes touched wildly by furious hues of orange and red. Months of keeping the FireHeart under control hadn't prepared him for the inferno that overtook him, for the idea of another man in Elsa's room pierced him with feelings of possession like he had never imagined. The only thing that kept the flames from appearing in the castle was the concerns he had for the tone in her voice and the obvious distress the ordeal caused her.

Ironically, it tempered his magic. "Tell me what happened."

While his simple request didn't betray the overbearing response she wanted, the tone and temperature allowed her to feel his passion for her, and she was satisfied with that. "He told me he loved me, and that we'd be the perfect couple," she said, remembering the suggestion with shivers and frowning as she thought of just how poorly she reflected in his eyes. "He said that we're the true future of Arendelle."

"And what was your response?" he asked, his voice strangely uncertain for an answer that should have resided in his heart without question.

The reservations in his voice made a petulant smile come over her face, as she found it silly that he could doubt her even in the slightest. Sometimes, she found the strangest things about him adorable. "I told him, in no less courteous terms, that he'd spend every night loving himself in the privacy of his own room before I'd ever consider marrying him," she explained in a sassy tone, and it brought a much needed discharge of laughter from the hallway, where she could feel the heat finally bleeding away. It was musical to hear him laugh again.

"And I told him that I had already found the one I love," she added, her face touched with a meekly glowing blush as she was finally given the chance to vent the frustrations of her heart.

Outside, Yasha got over his pale amusement and sighed despondently, mirroring all of the frustrations she had. He was happy she could still act so flippantly towards the situation, but he was too rooted in anger to share that tone, especially as he watched the seemingly empty hallway stare back at him. There were shadows at the end of the corridor, and he knew he was being observed, a guard to watch the guard. This entire farce was nothing but a way to for Johann to have a measure of revenge against him, for the way he had succeeded at her heart, even as the man was still making his overtures despite the warnings he had been given. It was unheard of for a captain to stand watch all night, even at the queen's chambers, but Johann knew it would be torture to stand there, so close to her, yet unable to do anything but his duty.

A guard's duty was never to be in love with the queen.

"But that did not deter him," he finally said.

Elsa sighed, shaking her head against the solid door. "No," she answered, "It didn't."

"I was far too lenient with him," he growled quietly, remembering his warning to Johann about trying to bully her into loving him, yet bitterly finding he no longer lacked the freedom to make good on it. Instead, he was as trapped in his prison as she was, and he could do nothing more than straighten his back and stare lifelessly at the opposite wall once more, trying to settle back into the role assigned to him and enjoy the moment for what it was worth – a fleeting affair where he would at least get to be near her. "We must continue to play this pitiful game of his. He is the baron of the Guard, and I will follow his orders. That was the oath I took when this began."

Elsa was suddenly infuriated. She had never wanted him to join the Royal Guard in the first place, though a small part of her knew he had been miserable in the castle, with no way to ever find a place in the workings of her kingdom. She found the way things worked archaic and petty, with nobles and lords all vying for favor in the court and the queen herself unable to do many things because of it. There were unbelievable amounts of convolution in the court of Arendelle, and it came as no surprise that she had never fully appreciated it until now, when her desires were pressing against the ancient foundations of the castle and her unchained heart had been trying to find its own way in the world.

"I'm the queen," she huffed, feeling the pain making her eyes hot and blurry, "I'll command him to…"

"No," he interrupted, though she had known he would do it. The simple response showed he completely understood how dangerous that thought was and how honestly he opposed it. She hated him for that. "He is waiting for you to interfere, and will seize upon any favor you show me. It is precisely the thing he hopes for."

"I don't care!" she cried as she hit the door softly with her fist and rolled her head against it, her face drawn into a painful grimace. "This is too much, Yasha. Too much."

"What good is being the queen if I can't see the one I love in my own castle?"

Yasha's hands clenched at his sides and he glared harshly at the wall, the dim light in the hallway revealing the lingering orange glow in his eyes. Hearing her in pain was almost more than he was willing to bear, and he was tempted to throw all of the games aside and convict them both in the eyes of the court. It seemed ridiculous that the two of them, wielders of ancient magic, should be bound by petty rules and petty ambitions, unable to freely experience the love they had for one another. Had they but wished it, they could have been together in a moment. They both had such power at the tips of their fingers.

No one could stop them.

He instantly shook those thoughts from his mind, as they made waves of fear wash over him. To abuse the ancient magic would be to betray the trust of her people, and he knew that she wasn't the tyrant she would become. Acting that way, even once, would freeze and shatter her heart. He couldn't bear that thought.

And secretly, he feared the path of fire. Even if it meant suffering this insufferable pain, he would never allow himself to become like his father.

"You must not," he cautioned, though his voice was strained by emotion.

She hated the fact that he told her the way it had to be, just as he always had. Once more, she wondered why they had to suffer so much after all they had been through, as if it all hadn't bought the peaceful days that everyone but them seemed to enjoy. His command made a choking sob escape her lips and she pressed her head into the door, her eyes closed and her heart reaching out for him.

"I miss you," she whispered, petting the wood softly, "It's painful to know you're so close. To hear your voice. To feel you standing there. I don't know how much longer I can take this."

"You have endured worse," he reminded her.

"I don't want to endure it anymore. I want to be together," she sighed, "Like before."

He sighed, his back touching the door as he slumped in the agony of their plight. "And I."

Silence permeated the hallway and her chambers, with only the soft breeze outside playing sad notes across the rooftops. This dirge of passion seemed to last a lifetime, clasping them both in grief. The memories of their secret nights together burned hotly in their minds, and both of them were silent in reverence for them. It had been simple and thrilling, to sneak away from prying eyes and find quiet moments together, a whimsical tale of a star-crossed king and queen. There was everything in those memories, including the betrayal of how carelessly they took them for granted.

"Yasha," she suddenly whispered, her voice like fire.

"I am here," he replied.

She bit her lip softly, no longer caring for etiquette and protocol. She could no longer resist the urge to be with him. "Won't you come in? Only for a short while," she called, her face flush and her blood boiling from anger and desire.

"Please."

His jaw tightened and his resolve wavered as well. Hearing her call him that way made every part of him want to turn, burn down the door and consume her, for all three things were well within his power and utterly rational to his starving heart. He could feel the way the wood was cooling at her touch, bowing to the effects of her powers just as he was bowing to the effects of her voice, though the chill seemed inadequate to temper the fire in him. The dim candles in the hallway thrashed about, and out into the courtyard some of the other guards were noticing the way the torches were acting wildly in their cradles. The fire in his chest raged out of control, and not even the FireHeart could conjure as much heat as she was casting inside.

He could barely stand another moment without her.

Tucking his head down, he let out a slow breath, which came out as steam as his magic touched the chill in the air. When he finally found the strength to reply, it was as much of a surprise to him as it was to her, for just when he felt his logic burn away to the passion of her request, the pragmatic desires of his heart took control of him, making sure that he didn't sacrifice their future for the moment.

"I cannot."

Elsa suddenly recoiled from the door, clenching her hands at her sides and glaring through the wood furiously. "You…you stubborn, stubborn man!" she cried, infuriated that he could still deny her. She seethed, trying to think of a thousand other terrible things to say, but the feeling of tears running down her cheeks stalled her, as well as how her breathing choked in her throat. This madness of the heart was overwhelming and she no longer had the strength to persuade him as her chambers filled with frost, and crystals of ice sparkled against the lingering moonlight in her windows. As proxy to their imperfect world, she was casting a frozen one upon her chambers, if only because she no longer had any control over her deepest heart, and the frost was slowly creeping over across the floor, running around her and threatening to seal her doors with impenetrable layers of frigid, acerbic ice.

Whirling around, she slammed her back against the door and crossed her arms harshly, staring forward as her face crumpled into a pout, making her tantrum reflect her sudden childishness and despair. "Fine then. Just stay out there," she said, whimpering as she slowly slid down the door until her arms touched her knees and she dropped her head against them.

"I hope your foot falls asleep," she hissed peevishly.

The curse was as vicious as she could manage, but she instantly felt bad about putting even the mildest of hexes on him. Getting angry was petty and shallow, for even if her head was aware of his stubbornness, her heart understood he did these things to buy their future, even if the price was steep. This separation was more than she could bear and she quietly cried into her arms, trying to keep him from hearing her as penance for the curse she cast on him. He had very good ears, and slowly leaned his head back against the door, looking up at the ornate ceiling and letting out a slow, strangled breath.

Never had he so fully regretted his decision to join the Royal Guard, and he conceded that Johann had won this battle with his careful manipulations. The path to gain pedigree in Arendelle was harder than he expected, as he felt just as frustrated as she did. The workings of the royal court took him out of his element and he started to doubt that he could succeed. Those doubts were short-lived though, as listening to her quiet sobs was a sobering reminder of why he was doing it in the first place, and why he had to succeed.

"Elsa," he called, cracking the frozen atmosphere.

Sniffling, she turned her head slightly and wiped the tears away with her hand, not really wanting to talk with him anymore but clinging to some small hope that he would dispel the pain from her chest.

"What?" she whimpered.

His lips parted for a moment, and then slowly closed. While he wanted to give her the answers to all of her questions, he found that was well outside of his power, and he could do nothing more than slump against her fastened door, his eyes closing slowly amidst the sounds of her cries, and uphold the duty he had in order to keep her safe until the morning came.

"Good night, Elsa."


	12. Tyrannical Love

**XII**

Tyrannical Love

It was a warm, sunny morning in the early summer when the market in Arendelle blossomed, bringing out many of the townspeople to join the merchants and workers that had been awake since long before the sun had crept over the distant peaks of the mountains. The town around the castle was bustling with life, with children playing in the streets and chatting mothers dotting the square, reflecting brightly on the halcyon days that dominated the busy port and the unyielding sentinel that stood over it, a bastion of peace and prosperity that stood like a beacon of light to the rest of the world.

All that arrived by ship and sea marveled at the castle, unaware that even this brilliant tower that endlessly stood against the winter storms wasn't always so tranquil just beneath its ivory surface.

"It's been ages since we've walked through the market like this. Do you have to be so far behind me?" the beautiful Queen Elsa complained, calling back to the shadow that lingered behind her, a shade that was as watchful of her as was the castle over the town. When her mood should have been as radiant as her appearance, it was fouled by the behavior of her escort, a lone Royal Guard captain that that followed a few steps behind, guarded as much for his distance to her as he was for any threat that might come near.

Yasha's pale gray eyes wandered over the market around them, if only to avoid letting them be drawn to her, where they wanted to be most. "It is expected that the Royal Guard does not interfere with the queen's affairs. I will gladly carry any goods you want to take back to the castle," he replied dryly, superficially letting his attention linger on unimportant things, but secretly never letting her get too far away from him.

She continued to let him destroy her mood and rolled her eyes. "If you keep up with that Royal Guard nonsense even when we're alone, I'll command you to throw yourself into the dungeon," she grumbled.

Without her noticing, Yasha had paused, his eyes on a few men that lingered at the other side of the market, their fur clothing setting them apart from the crowd and their dark eyes cast upon her. While it wasn't unusual for outsiders to stare at the infamously brilliant Snow Queen, there was something about them that flagged his senses, something feral and dangerous.

He made sure his presence was known to them, cutting an imposing figure against the backdrop of the market until they broke from their gawking and moved on, disappearing into the crowds.

Satisfied they wouldn't bother her, he turned slowly and continued to follow Elsa, his instincts still warning him, but feeling the pull of distraction at being so near her again. "You know why I cannot come closer. The absurdity behind it need not be repeated at every given chance," he sighed.

"You really are a stubborn man," she muttered.

In the past, when their romance was new and awkward, they had come here on occasion, actors on the public stage, to try and play off their attraction as merely necessary for the absorption of Fria into Arendelle. Now, in light of the currents that worked against them, their appearance together was a much different shade, so much so that the crowds around them murmured about the future of their kingdom.

Although annoyed with him, Elsa couldn't help but look back over her shoulder and see that he was nearby. Just finding his handsome figure cut so cleanly in the lines of his uniform made her heart beat and her anger settle, making her want nothing more than to discard these games and go to him regardless of the many eyes upon them. The image of herself throwing her arms around him in the middle of the busy market and placing a passionate kiss on his lips made a warm blush cover her face, for it would be so unheard of that the blatant act might shatter the frozen world upon them and scatter the rules so far that they might no longer apply at all.

Shaking off those lewd thoughts, she looked back forward and rubbed the heat from her cheeks, finding that she would never be able to face her subjects if she were so bold.

The life of a queen was hard, but the trials of a young woman in love were even harder.

Eager to cool herself, she suddenly burst into a hurried walk, moving against the flow of people through the market and trying to navigate their affectionate calls and loitering, all in an effort to leave her escort behind. He wasn't lost upon this sudden dash into the crowds.

"What are you doing?" he called, hastening his pace as well and weaving through the gawking crowds with all the agility of a predator chasing its prey.

She bristled at the sound of his voice and how it didn't help disperse the heat she was feeling. While it was primal to be excited by the way he chased her, at the moment she was really trying to get away from him, though she knew with his abilities and resolve, there was no way she would ever truly escape him.

Sometimes, she had to be more direct in her message.

In the middle of the watching crowds, she abruptly turned and showed her annoyance, while hoping she was hiding her other emotions. Inwardly, she hoped the red on her face would be taken for its color and not its temperature. "I'm attending to the queen's affairs. There are other places that I want to look and I don't need some brooding guard hanging over my shoulder all day. Do you have a problem with that, _Captain_?" she barked, loud enough that it stalled some of the onlookers around them, though for the denizens of Arendelle this appeared as nothing more than a lover's quarrel, quickly becoming the attention of the entire market. There was even an empty line of street between them where all of the whispering spectators had parted in order to give them a clear view of one another.

His expression soured as he heard the sharpness in her voice, though he was also keenly aware of the audience they had attracted. Usually, he wouldn't have minded the crowd, but the glances of the guards stationed in the market warned him that they weren't just being watched by the citizens, but by the eyes and ears of the baron as well. This was Johann demonstrating the true depth of his cruelty, when he would let them be together without the doors, though just as restrained in the affection they could show.

"No, _Your_ _Highness,_" he relented, stiffening in an effort to portray his station, "I will be nearby if you need me."

Elsa felt her annoyance flare at the retreat, for she secretly had hoped he would defy her wishes and endure her shallow attempts to push him away. She felt wicked for doing so, but she wanted him to do what her heart commanded, not follow the false orders from her lips. Before Johann's quest to separate them, he had been very keen on understanding what her heart wanted and had delighted her in his ability to fulfill her even when she wasn't so honest in the demands she made of him. As a true testament to the sins they suffered, she wondered if he was losing that ability to interpret the riddles of her heart.

Scowling, she turned and continued through the crowd, heading to another part of the market to be angry and alone.

He echoed her frustrations, and remained still.

With the departure of the queen, the market began to flow once more, though Yasha felt like a stone lodged firmly in the middle. In spite of how firmly he clung to his honor, he saw no end to this blanket of dark clouds, no sunlight at the peripherals of this storm. Even with her so near, he felt so completely lost as to begin to lose heart, something that felt foreign to him.

Appalled at his own conduct, he suddenly felt like he was his own nemesis in the narrative of their storied romance.

"Prince Yasha?"

A voice broke through the currents around him and he winced at the name, finding that he both still resented it, but also strangely clung to its allure. Usually, he would have found a proud soldier there, holding to the authority the title still had among the lost citizens of Fria and still seeing him as the rightful ruler of their people, but when he looked to the source of the call this time, it was no soldier he found, but something that shook his every expectation.

It was a beautiful young woman, with long raven hair tied back with a fine bonnet, her eyes indicative of those that had lived under the mountain. Her skin was slightly scarred but still beautiful, and she radiated a sense of strength that had undoubtedly helped her endure their world until the day they finally left Fria and settled into the fresh air of Elsa's kingdom. At her side, there was a tall man, who stood quietly but strong, his blue eyes and light hair striking a stark contrast to her, though somehow complimenting her, as if the two of them had been destined to stand together before him.

Yasha's attention lingered on the woman, his brow furrowed in memory. "You are Mikhail's daughter Natasha. You helped tend the stables," he said slowly, hoping his mind wasn't so clouded by despair as to forget the people he had worked so hard to liberate.

Her face brightened instantly and she clutched her hand across her chest. It wasn't every day that her prince called her by name. "I am honored you know my name and my father, Prince Yasha," she gasped, bowing her head reverently. Her gesture thawed his pensive expression and she quickly placed her hand on the arm of the man next to her, continuing to beam at the pride she felt in her heart. "This is my husband, Wilhelm."

Yasha moved his eyes over slowly and didn't enjoy the same success in recalling him. "I do not recognize you. You are not from Fria."

"Well, no. I'm from Arendelle," Wilhelm replied, a bit nervously as he wasn't used to chatting with members of royalty. "I'm a merchant that's been helping the people from Fria to sell their wares in the markets around the kingdom. That's how I met Natasha. Luckiest day of my life."

Yasha looked between the two of them, slowly trying to grasp the depth of the situation. While he had initially suffered a strange sort of repulsion at the idea, seeing their powerful connection and obvious affection dissolved any shallow response he had, making him embrace the union for what it truly was.

The future.

"Then you have my gratitude for helping my people, Wilhelm," Yasha said, nodding firmly to him.

Wilhelm didn't often have the most notorious man in Arendelle offer such honor, so he waved his hands out to try and dismiss the gesture. "Oh no! It's nothing. I mean, it's the least I can do to help. We're all part of Arendelle now, aren't we?" he replied nervously.

The remark drew a grim expression across Yasha's face. His eyes wandered away in an effort to locate another that often echoed those sentiments. Finding Elsa in the distance, still fuming as she browsed through a collection of exotic spices, he made sure to once more uphold his duty in deference to his distance by making sure she was still safe and sound.

"So it would seem."

The two of them noticed his declining mood and his fixation on the queen, though they wouldn't pretend to understand the nuances of royal life. Instead, they wanted to make sure they broached the subject that had made them approach him before his duty took him away.

"My prince, if I may? We have just recently discovered that I am with our first child," Natasha said meekly, her hand running across the inconspicuous bump at her stomach, a warm haze of red dancing across her face. Her eyes slowly rose and she appeared reluctant to ask anything of him, despite how strongly she wanted to have his attention. "I was hoping you would give us your favor, so our child will grow up strong and healthy."

The request took him by surprise and his eyes lingered on the indiscernible womb. While Yasha had seen Oma offer such blessings, he had never been asked himself, due to the apathy of his bloodline and the time he spent in exile. He wondered if he were really the right person to ask, yet the significance of the child didn't escape him, and he couldn't dismiss their hopes just because he suffered his own doubts.

For him, denying one of his people the few reminders of their lost kingdom felt like betrayal, even if it meant acknowledging the blood that flowed through his veins and the heritage it represented.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly raised his hand out, letting it hover over her stomach. There was nothing to feel with his trembling hand, but he could strangely envision the hazy image of a young boy running around, making a strange smile tug at his lips. While he didn't know if this was the power of the FireHeart or simply what he wanted to see for them, the importance of the moment struck him. This child was the future that Elsa had embraced when Fria disappeared and she opened her arms to his people. It was as much a part of her legacy just as it was his, a product of sacrifice, love and time.

The future was a powerful thing to witness firsthand.

"I feel the fire of the mountain in your child," he finally managed to say, trying to sound prophetic while his voice suffering the weight of his emotions. "It will be a fine boy. You should be very proud."

"A boy!" Natasha cheered as she gave Wilhelm a brilliant smile and tugged at his arm excitedly, as if such simple words would guarantee the child's future. The man also seemed pleased, though he was trying to calm her, if only because he thought her fit might offend her prince.

Her excitement wouldn't be diminished and she suddenly clapped her hands onto Yasha's, dismissing all regard for station and protocol. "Thank you, my prince! Oh, thank you! May the mountain bless you!" she cheered, tears forming at the corner of her eyes as she pressed her forehead into his hand. He had rarely seen such happiness in response to something so simple and he couldn't help but smile as Wilhelm offered him an embarrassed nod, then herded his ecstatic wife away, her voice still carrying the thrills of having her child inheriting the blessing of the mountain.

As they faded away into the crowds, Yasha slowly lowered his hand to his side and stared aimlessly into the distance, finding the entire incident burning furiously in his mind. His lips no longer had an amused smile, but were pursed in thought. As the realities of his own world sank into him once more, his eyes shifted to Elsa, who still moved at a distance. A new wave of realities hit him as he watched her, bringing with them their sharpness, as if countless blades were piercing his chest.

He had sworn to never see her cry again, and failed.

He had sworn to fulfill her every desire, and failed.

He had sworn to make her happy, and failed.

As the failures compounded upon him, he stood there and wondered what he had been doing until now. Hers was an existence that seemed displaced from the world and once more recognizing her extraordinary nature was slowly making him see the folly of his recent behavior. If he stood still, clutching his honor like a great, unmoving shield, the currents of the world would continue to move on around him. Frighteningly, if he continued to stand around and do nothing, the currents might someday take her with them.

The thought of watching her drift beyond his reach struck fear in his chest, though it suddenly brought a far different reaction to his eyes. The thought of the child that would one day enter the world, a testament of love against fate, made his gray eyes reflect her radiant image clearly. Even the foulness of his previous mood couldn't smother a growing realization within him as a warm smile touched his lips, as if the countless days of doubt and fear had merely masked the truth from him, and that in spite of all the searching, the answer had been before him the entire time.

"The future of Fria and Arendelle…" he whispered, then pushed himself back into her world, walking forcefully forward as he began to draw his black-bladed dagger from its place at his belt.

"I wonder if Anna would like this," Elsa mused as she handled a silken scarf between her fingers, using her sister as a way to distract her from the pitfall of thinking of Yasha. Walking through the market had usually calmed her, though even the joys of interacting with her people hadn't been as satisfying because of the burden on her heart. In light of her mood, she had been blatantly ignoring him, though she knew he was still nearby. While that would have usually excited her, it did nothing more than fuel the disdain for the role he had in the tragedy that was upon them.

Suddenly, a beautiful flower appeared before her face.

"I trust your affairs are going well?"

Elsa jumped at the flower, then stared at this resurgent prince with wide eyes, her chest heaving at the mercy of her racing heart. "Yasha!" she cried, desperately trying to figure out what he was doing and hearing the waves of whispers grow around the market. Looking around, she could see dozens of eyes on them, coupled with whispering lips hiding behind cupped hands, and it stoked her embarrassment, though she couldn't exactly say why.

By instinct, she suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged him into a small alley, where not so many eyes would find them and she could try to understand his sudden madness. "What are you doing? Everybody is watching."

He seemed completely uninterested in anything but her. "Is it strange for a guard to give the queen a flower?" he asked, lifting the chromatic blossom up again.

"Yes, it is!" she replied wildly, though seeing his piercing attention on her made her objections waver and she struggled to calm down. A draft of sweet fragrance coupled with a grassy smell touched her nose as her attention went back to the flower, which was a single, freshly-cut marigold. It was a flower that had meaning for them and it drew her red lips into a soft smile as she reached up and cradled the flower in her fingers, lifting it to her nose to breathe in the flower's scent.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

His continued gaze on her and the abrupt change in manner finally tore her back to reality and she suddenly looked back to him, her brow twisting and her eyes concerned. "Wait, have you been drinking? Why are you suddenly acting like this out in plain view?" she asked, something that drew a roguish smile across his face. Those kinds of smiles only defeated her further and she began to show her impatience for the game he was playing.

"I thought it was normal for the Royal Guard not to interfere with the queen's affairs," she reminded him sharply.

He considered her words carefully. "Perhaps I have lately been too much the guard who serves the queen, and not enough the man that is deeply, and quite madly, in love with her," he suggested, leaning his arms onto the walls and growing even closer, so much that she had to press her back against the cold stone to try and resist him. As he had trapped her there, with no hope for escape, she could only stare up at him, her white skin burning red and her lips working to speak, but finding nothing but her own imprisoned silence. Her reaction seemed to encourage him, speaking as if words were the only thing that might otherwise occupy his lips.

"I fear I have being going about a good number of things poorly in recent days, though I am prepared to remedy that, if you would be so gracious as to forgive me."

As the man she had grown to love had finally come out again, she felt all of her defenses fall and she struggled to breathe, though as her fingers playfully worked their way into the folds of his uniform, grasping them tightly and taking revenge for his ruthless success at capturing her, she finally found her voice again and did all she could to keep up her angry facade.

"You know, I hate it when you sweet talk me like that, when I'm in no position to punish you appropriately," she whispered hotly, pulling on his uniform and hanging her lips in a bid to finally make him understand what he had to do next.

There was no more confusion between them as he pierced the remaining distance and kissed her, while her chest was seized by the breath she sucked in through her nose, her senses assaulted and her knuckles drawn white. The rest of the world faded away in that kiss and not even the raging inferno of whispers could break the desperation of their embrace. As the line was already crossed, there was no choice but to release all of the pent up frustrations that had dominated their lives for the past few months, letting the kiss run long and hot as they found elation in each other's arms. There was no way to judge what stoked the masses more, the shadowy location of their affair, the overwhelming passion of their embrace or the scandalous length of the kiss, but all of these elements sent the market into a fury, stretching far beyond the cobbled streets and to the castle beyond.

But as true as the love they felt burning once more, neither of them seemed to care.

When their passions had finally been appeased, they separated, panting heavily at the exchange and leaning their heads together. It took several moments just to catch their breath, and while they should have been thinking of the countless reasons why the kiss was dangerous, they were thinking of nothing but the utter pleasure of it, and the way it cured their ailing hearts.

The world was drowning in the thunder in their ears, though Elsa was the first to regain her senses, still clinging to his uniform and bringing her crystal blue eyes up to him once more. As oppressive as the kiss had been, she still had to make sure she asserted her authority over him. "But if you're going to put it that way, I guess I can give you a chance to make it up to me."

It was now Yasha that found himself speechless. Only at that moment, when he had finally given in to fate, he realized he had waited far too long to do that, and that he could barely fathom the reasons why it had taken so long to come to his senses. While she certainly would agree with those feelings, a hint of the reasons surfaced in her eyes and she frowned slightly, feeling the villain for having to remind them of the world.

"I'm pretty sure half of the market just saw that," she admitted bashfully, taking great care to not look out to the crowds and see if anyone was blatantly gazing down their cozy alley.

"There's no way Johann won't hear about it by the end of the day."

At mention of the name, Yasha groused as he cast his eyes to the side. Everyone they had been careful to appease would now have their ammunition, and their struggle was only about to get harder. Yet as he had her in his arms and felt the warmth she offered him, he defiantly lifted his eyes back up, showing her that in spite of the consequences they faced, he would have still done it, and had firm plans to do it again.

"I no longer care. I did not shatter one fate only to be chained by another. If we are to have our future, we must fight this battle on our own terms. We will do this as our hearts demand," he proclaimed fiercely.

"I love you, Elsa. All else is tomorrow."

Hearing the words struck the fears and doubts from her chest and drew a wide smile on her face. It was the simplest things that brought her the greatest joys and she suddenly threw her arms around his neck, putting her head against his and holding him tightly in spite of any watchers, while feeling the wonderful sensation of his arms around her waist and the feel of his heartbeat drumming in sync with her own.

"And I love you. Today, tomorrow…always," she whispered, unsure of the future he spoke of, but willing to walk with him, hand in hand, towards it until it was no longer a thing to look forward to, but a certainty that they had earned.

* * *

"This is unacceptable! A captain of the Guard seen intimately touching the queen, in the market of all places! Do you realize the ruckus you've caused? The townspeople are still talking about it! I've had my fa…the regent personally demanding to know how we can possibly impart discipline into the common soldier when we have officers that don't understand their rightful place!"

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

Johann was fuming. He had been pacing back and forth in his office since long before Yasha arrived, agitated so much that half of the barracks had gathered in the adjacent room to listen. Upon hearing of the flagrant display of affection in the market, he had felt such a mixture of emotion that it took him several hours before he could even summon him, for although this was precisely the thing he had been waiting for, the truth behind it had struck his heart more potently than he expected, revealing that even though his actions towards Elsa loomed in the gray area between desire and obsession, he truly loved her, in an autocratic and cursory sort of way. The distance that had been growing between her and Yasha had empowered him, fooling him into believing that their relationship had been a farce and a ploy, something that didn't truly exist in the world. After hearing the vivid details of their affair, there was no longer any possibility of fooling himself.

The man standing at attention before him had claimed the heart of his queen.

"I fail to see the concern," Yasha replied casually, his hands clasped behind his back in the posture expected of him, but appeared very much amused in defiance of Johann's mood, "It was a simple flower given as a sign of the affection I have for the queen. I would hardly call it the scandal of the ages."

Johann raged, stabbing his finger at the ground between them. "Don't play coy with me! It wasn't just a simple flower. I was told that you were standing intimately close to her, far beyond the measure for any guard's station. Members of the Royal Guard do not kiss the queen in the middle of the market!"

"My apologies, Baron," Yasha continued calmly, "I accept that my actions might have been unsuitable for the location. In the future, I will be sure to limit my inappropriate contact with the queen to more private venues."

Johann had never known such anger and he seethed furiously, inches away from his face. "You forget your place, Captain," he snarled.

"On the contrary," Yasha snapped back, finally taking his eyes from the empty distance that seemed to entertain him and laying them on the man raging before him, "I am only now remembering my place. While I wear this uniform, I am the captain and you are the baron. That fact does not elude me. But you might recall what I once told you about Elsa. I am hers, most especially when I remove this uniform. You are not."

"So perhaps it is you that has forgotten his place."

Johann was heaving, even as the waves of wicked fear kept firmly in place. He could barely believe the disaster that was unfolding before him, or how much Yasha still intimidated him. "I'll have you chains for this insubordination," he threatened, flaunting the rank and power he possessed as baron.

"You may try," Yasha snorted dismissively, "Not even I know how well it would go for you."

Johann's fury continued to fester. The moment of triumph that he had waited for was being strangled before him, merely because for one reason or another, Yasha had experienced a change of heart. The fiery prince was as dangerous to handle as he was in the beginning and he felt all of his schemes and efforts crumble before him, lost to the fire that burned within the eyes of the man that had stolen Elsa's heart. Yet there was nothing he could do, for he couldn't fight the fear he felt, or the realization that everything he had done, everything he had accomplished, had brought him no closer to winning her hand, or defeating the man that stood before him.

He could only glare forward, helpless seething before the presence that was Yasha.

"Now then, is there anything else, Baron? I believe you have me scheduled as escort this afternoon. With or without the uniform, I am quite busy in my commitments to the queen," Yasha suddenly remarked calmly, looking back forward as his station demanded.

Johann was silent. As he now had no idea what he could dare, he felt there was little more he could do than hiss helplessly from the bushes as he tried to maintain order in his carefully constructed world.

"This matter of you and the queen isn't over, Yasha," he warned.

The remark drew Yasha's eyes back instantly, and he was no less absolute in his response.

"No, it is not. Remember that."

Without being officially dismissed, Yasha turned from Johann and triumphantly marched out of the room, pulling the door shut tightly behind him and leaving the young baron to wallow in his rage, privately and without relief. Johann's fists were trembling at his sides as he digested his defeat, wondering why he had been powerless against him. While trying to gather the focus needed to assert himself, he found that even after the man had left, the pressure in the room remained. The inadequacy made him turn to his desk in anger and slam his fists down, roaring feverishly as he thrashed about, throwing anything and everything to the floor until he fell to his knees at its edge, his forehead pressed against the sharp crease of wood, his mind a torrent of fury.

He had been beaten again.

He had been humiliated again.

Above all else, he had failed to claim her again.

The frustration was more than he could bear.

Outside of the door, Yasha had waited just long enough to hear the tantrum, then smiled as he turned and strolled proudly back towards his quarters, unsure of what reaction Johann would have when he calmed down, but confident he could handle it. For the first time in many months, he felt good. He felt happy. In just a short time, he would see Elsa again, unbridled and without restraint. He had shed his doubts and regained his focus on what mattered most to him. Those thoughts put a spring in his step and he couldn't stop the smile from dominating his face.

He felt like he owned the world.

"Hey, Captain. There you are," said a voice from the hallway and he turned to find Thias walking towards him. The large guard was taken by the expression his captain wore and felt it mirrored on his own face. "Wow, I bet you could bite both ears with that smile like that. I guess the rumors about the marketplace are true. With the queen in a dark alley, they say!"

In contrast to his usual mood, Yasha didn't care about the rumors or what anyone was saying, for he was far too pleased with himself to address any of it, so he simply tried to control the smile on his face as he waved off the large man. "You know my thoughts on rumors and gossip, Thias. But go on. You look as if you have something to report," he said, figuring nothing could ruin his good mood.

Thias let the amusement of his uncharacteristic mood linger a moment, then suddenly straightened to fulfill his duty. "Yes, Captain. There have been reports of several suspicious characters lingering around the castle, and earlier one of our patrols went missing in the northern hills. As the baron sounds like he's otherwise engaged, we thought we'd find out what you want to do about it."

Yasha's brow fell as he strangely recalled the fur-wearing men that had been in the market, though he had no proof that the two matters were related. While there were always suspicious characters here and there, the missing patrol was a mark for concern and he crossed his arms thoughtfully, giving Thias's report the diligence it deserved. "While I am concerned about the patrol, I do not like the idea of sending out a detachment when we have reports of vagrants near the castle," he said, assessing the dangers of the paths before him. The anticipated appointment with Elsa was keenly on his mind, but the look on the face of Thias meant he might have to postpone it, if only to fulfill his duty. "They will get another hour to report in. In the meantime, we will go investigate these reports of suspicious characters. Gather the men and meet me in the yard in ten minutes."

Thias seemed to appreciate the prompt response, saluting him before turning and jogging off towards the barracks. Yasha watched him go with another sort of pride in him, one that found that good men of Arendelle and good men of Fria could work together when they held common goals. While his time in the Guard had been tumultuous, he found that the connections he forged weren't the ones he had originally intended. They weren't the political ones that would stretch out into the royal court and allow him to openly court Elsa, but rather the simple ones he had forged with the people of both of their kingdoms, the soldiers and the townsfolk, and that those connections were far more precious to him than the ones earned by dancing well or knowing who to speak to first in a crowd.

As he continued on to his quarters, he concluded that he had made the right connections after all.

With his mind preoccupied by his victory, he didn't notice the dangerous feeling in the air or the way his door was ajar until right as his hand was about to take the handle, though he instantly tightened as his mind came snapping back to reality and he considered the prospect of someone in his room, especially with the many enemies he had just made. His other hand had reached back for his Xenocryst, though he remembered that the blade was just beyond the door, sitting carefully on the desk next to his bed. If Johann had already moved in response to the events in the market, Yasha was unprepared, though he quietly knew the black dagger wasn't the most dangerous of his weapons.

If it came down to it, there was always the FireHeart.

His hands tight, he suddenly flung the door open, finding the room empty. Taking a few steps in, his eyes searched everywhere, yet found no trace of disturbance, as if no one had been there at all. The only thing that caught his eye was an unknown scroll of paper on his desk.

Still cautious but wildly curious, he approached the desk and reached out for the letter, finding no traps and no surprises, but just a simple message scrawled on the paper in fine ink and dubious intent. The message drew a fierce grimace onto his face and he had to read it several times before he could fully embrace its authenticity, though once he was fully convinced of it, he could do nothing but follow its every command.

Shoving the paper into his uniform, he suddenly flew about his room in a violent fit, grabbing his coat from the rack and his Xenocryst from the nightstand, then rushed out without even bothering to close the door behind him. He didn't head towards the yard where his men would be assembling, nor did he go in the direction where Elsa would be waiting for him.

His destination was somewhere else entirely.


	13. Taking One's Rightful Place

**XIII**

Taking One's Rightful Place

Alarm bells were ringing loudly over Arendelle, piercing the normally tranquil air with a tension that spread so quickly that most didn't suspect there was anything amiss at all. The first of the animals that had come out of the morning mists devoured the first of the guards, silently and completely without mercy. Even the guards that had witnessed the fate of their comrades took time to react, for seeing the carnage that suddenly unfolded before them stuttered their expectations of the day and blurred the lines of reality just as the mists blurred the lines of the castle in the distance. As more feral shadows moved in on the town, they brought with them the screams of those that they came across and the reality of the situation suddenly became clear.

The kingdom was under attack.

By the time the first guard had reached the bell and began sending the pitched alarm into the air, there were hordes of animals coming through the mists and crawling out of the fjord, meeting anyone they found with fangs and claws, though made of steel instead of bone. The guards that met them found vicious men underneath the fur, though their faces were savage and their cries feral. As best as they could, they did their duty to protect the kingdom and its people, though a huge number of the animals surged into the town and began to meet the residents that had wandered out to see the commotion, with harrowing results. Now, as the screams of battle and pain filled in the gaps between the alarm bells, women rushed inside with their children and tried to bolt the doors while men accustomed to handling shovels and boxes grabbed anything they could to try and match the rabid beasts and their bloody claws.

The town had become a sea of chaos in contrast to its natural state, while any of the animals that made it through the lines of guards were heading straight towards the castle and the treasures that lie within.

In the throne room of the castle, Elsa was tense, staring out towards the town. A distinctly cool air was circling her and she couldn't control the sense of dread in her heart, though something had very quickly strangled her instincts to rush out and see what the alarm was about. Her eyes moved across Anna and Kristoff as they mirrored her pensive look, then on to the others of her court, and finally onto the single person that had brought them all there before the bells had even begun to sing, as if he had seen well into the future and already knew what was going on.

At that moment, she suddenly realized she had no idea just how far Regent Stenson could see.

"I have to go see what's going on! I can't just stand here while something is happening in the town," Elsa cried, completely aghast at the demands he made of her.

"No, you must stay here until we know more about the situation. It's the Royal Guard's duty to protect the kingdom, not the queen's. I can't allow you to rush off and get hurt, or worse. Stay here, Elsa," the regent demanded, showing his rightful place as her advisor and trying to keep her from doing anything too rash, even if her magic emboldened her into thinking she could conquer the world.

"I can help! I could…" she cried, though he suddenly cut her off with a cold tone and colder eyes.

"You could what? Go and freeze whatever is out there, including half of the town?" he countered, watching as the thought smothered the fire in her eyes. It was an image that still strangled her, making it an effective way to manage her powers. Even now, with the alarm resounding through the air, he marveled at how easy it was to control her.

"Hey! That's not fair!" Anna suddenly chirped, stepping forward to defend her sister but suddenly being quieted by a harsh glare from him. While she didn't have the personal relationship with Regent Stenson that Elsa did, he still demonstrated the patriarchal domain he inherited from their late father and the authority he had over both of the sisters.

Anna's feisty nature broke upon the ferocity of his glance. "Uhm, nevermind."

Watching her retreat back to Kristoff's side, the regent looked to Elsa and saw the fire still smoldering in her eyes, though he was quick to douse it with reason and expectation. "You need to stay here. Wait until we hear a report from the Royal Guard, and then decide how to act. That's how a queen must behave in a crisis," he instructed, though he watched the way she still wavered and looked out towards the alarms.

His eyes focusing, he felt he needed to nudge her just a bit more. "At the very least, you must stand and protect those here, including the princess. If there are vagrants in the town and they make it to the castle, you might be our only hope against them."

Elsa's eyes instantly went to Anna and the line of reasoning resonated powerfully with her. The thought of anything happening to her sister made her heart clench and she suddenly saw the sense in his suggestion, even if her instinct still told her to go protect everyone and despite the fact that Anna's expression showed she didn't agree. She could hear Anna's voice telling her to go and let Anna take care of Anna, for her sister had an uncanny talent at looking after herself, even in a crisis.

Before Elsa had a chance to decide whose path to follow, there was the sound of footsteps approaching the throne room and it drew everyone's attention to the main doors, some fearing it was the invaders finally breaching the castle. Marching forcefully towards them all was a large group of men from the Royal Guard, with Johann leading them. A brooding expression was plastered on his face and his eyes were solely on the radiant queen that dominated the middle of the hall, something that struck Elsa for its fierceness and the way it took away from his usual rehearsed presence.

It was as if something were eating away at his insides and hollowing out his eyes.

His expression frightened her.

The contingent of guards pushed into the throne room and came to a halt opposite of the court, with Johann's eyes instantly drawn from the queen to the regent. He seemed surprised to see his father there, along with the princess and the other nobles, though he was quick to look back to the queen and he disconcertingly said nothing, something that struck her powerfully in light of the alarm bells in the air. Another thing that struck her was his appearance. While the guards that escorted him were armed, they appeared minimally prepared for the assault, while Johann appeared as if he had just walked out of the armory. Aside from an elegant sword hanging from his belt, he wore a brilliant sleeve of plated armor over his opposite arm, complete with a heavy pauldron over the shoulder that carried his family crest and interwoven plates that looked like dragon scales, even down to their greenish hue. The gauntlet was clawed and came to a point over the vambrace, making the sleeve as much of a weapon as the sword it was designed to compliment. The armor looked as if it would take a long time to fit, and as none of the other guards were so prepared, it made her glare at him harshly, wondering why everyone but him had been apparently caught off guard by the attack.

"What's going on, Johann? Why are the alarm bells ringing?" she demanded, taking a few steps towards him and watching tensely as his men began fanning out into the throne room around her.

"Forgive me, Your Highness, but I'll be brief. There are vagrants attacking the town and the Royal Guard is stretched thin in repelling them. Their numbers and intent are still unknown, though I suspect they'll make their way to the castle very soon," he reported, settling his hand over the hilt of his sword as his eyes became darker and his voice dropped in tone. It was obvious that he had something else on his mind. "In times of crisis, it's the duty of all guards to defend Arendelle, yet one of our captains has gone missing since before the attacks. I find it vexing, to say the least."

Elsa's heart skipped. Even without the name, the look on his face and the tension in his body made her understand exactly who he referred to, though she couldn't fathom any reason why he would be missing in this time of dire need. It sent a new wave of anxiety rising through her chest.

"Yasha?" she gasped.

The regent suddenly took a step forward, injecting himself into their conversation. "Impossible. It was Captain Yasha that summoned me here with the others of the royal court. Why would he then suddenly disappear?" he said gruffly.

Johann was looking at his father with silent eyes, though ultimately shifted them back to the queen, watching how the news was devastating her expression. It stirred up the same anger that tore through his office after Yasha's departure and he found himself struggling to focus on anything else. "There's no place in my Guard for cowards, but now isn't the time to deal with him. We have other matters to attend to," he snarled, turning his head and flashing out his armored hand out to his men as they lined the throne room.

"Close the doors and bar them. No one enters."

His escort, men hand-picked and the most loyal to him, were quick to obey and began to close the large doors, arranging braces against them all while the rest of the court looked on in whispers and silence. Johann was quick to seal off the nobility of Arendelle, but his posture was electric and his skin was heavy with sweat.

Elsa wasn't lost on his mood and felt her own pulse race at his actions. Even her magic began to swell as she wondered exactly what his intentions were. "What are you doing, Johann?" she demanded, chilling the entirety of the room for its tone and making the hushed baron look back to her with eyes she had only rarely seen before. They were dangerous and deep, and they had secrets in them that she couldn't discern. Strangely, she felt the warnings from those eyes far clearer than the bells that still echoed around the walls of the castle.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Your Highness," he replied venomously as he slowly drew his sword from his side.

"This is what I should have done from the beginning."


	14. Truths of Nature

**XIV**

Truths of Nature

In an isolated part of the distant Misty Woods, there sat a single lodge of wood and animal bones. With the lingering mists in the woods that gave it its name, the lodge could be easily missed by anyone that didn't know of its existence, though its secrets were revealed as a single figure approached, his boots crushing the dead leaves that carpeted the forest floor and long coat keeping out the chill of the mists. Yasha's gray eyes took in the details of the building, from its sturdy construction to the myriad of frozen animal corpses that littered the yard, posed and presented as both trophies and warnings to anyone that might come too near.

It was a mess, but at the same time spoke of rugged durability that endured the test of time.

After a weighted assessment, he slowly approached the lodge, wondering why he had only been met by the silent cries of skulls and corpses instead of arrows or blades. The lodge had a single, large door that was pressed closed, yet no guards and no traps. There were no shadows in the trees or sentries in the mists. It was as if he were being summoned, with the message in his room being the invitation.

Carefully walking up the rotted steps to the door, his hand was firmly clasped on his dagger at his back. He didn't like the atmosphere at all. Finding the large door unsecured, he slowly pushed it open, both for its weight and its warning. What met him was a stark contrast to the cesspool appearance of the lodge from the outside.

Gold and silver glittered in the light of many glowing lanterns. Works of art leaned carelessly against wooden posts, some torn from rough handling and others splattered with food and drink. An armory of brilliant swords and spears lay scattered around, rivaling even the main armory of the Royal Guard, while any countless number of urns and vases were thrown amidst the rest, as if the cache were nothing more than a closet of wealth to be casually accessed anytime one needed to buy the world.

Aghast, he stepped into the lodge, his boots clunking loudly across the wooden planks, while his eyes measured the stash. It might make a man as wealthy as the regent, though as many of the goods he saw bore the mark of the kingdom of Fria, he knew much of this trove was not earned, but stolen.

This was the place he had been looking for.

This was the realm of Kobold.

"Welcome to my home, little bird. I've been waiting for you," said a voice that shattered the silence and it instantly ripped Yasha's attention from the treasures around him. His eyes shot to a large man that sat in a large chair in the middle of the cavernous hall, and he was disturbed by the fact he hadn't noticed him before. He was wearing the skin of a large bear and looked just like one of the howling beasts that littered the yard outside, though this beast was very much alive and staring at him with dark eyes, and even darker intentions.

Yasha's hand never moved from his dagger and his posture was tense as he tried to size up the waiting animal. "How courteous," he replied, trying to sound casual in spite of the anxiety rising in him. "Can I assume you are the leader of this Kobold I seek? The one that has been attacking the caravans from Arendelle?"

A smile pierced the bear's wiry beard. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't know the answer to that," he growled, though had yet to move, which was something that continued to send sparks of warning through Yasha's eyes. His caution appeased the bear and he casually ran his knobby fingers through his beard, looking him over very carefully. "And you're the little firebird that's lost his wings, the thorn up everybody's ass."

"I expected you'd be bigger."

"It seems we do not share such broken expectations. You smell as foul as I imagined you would," Yasha snorted.

Volgard the Bear uttered a slightly amused growl and rose to his feet, bringing with him his monstrous size. A bulky crossbow was in his hand and a dangerous darkness was in his eyes.

"Careful, birdy. That tongue might be the first thing I rip out of you."

Yasha's anxiety grew as the bear slowly raised the crossbow, once more dragging the pace of their encounter, as if he had far different intentions in mind. "Now, stand right there. Don't move," he requested as the crossbow was leveled, a smile working its way back over his grisly face. Yasha was oddly compliant, though his dagger was nearly drawn and his posture tight. When the trigger was pulled, there was a loud strum of the string and a whistling sound, followed by a crack as the bolt severed a thick rope next to the door and released a large slab of timber down with a thundering crash. The door was now a wall of wood, with Yasha giving it a look over his shoulder but his black dagger held to meet any other action of the bear.

It was obvious he hadn't been the target, but now stood trapped in the lodge with a dangerous animal.

The bear that let out a bellowing laugh. "I'm impressed! Most men would have scurried away as soon as I raised it. You either got stones up here," he roared after tapping the empty crossbow to the bear skull at his head, then casually throwing the weapon aside, "or stone underneath." Seeing him wielding his exotically glowing dagger, the bear's smile only widened as he held his massive paws at his sides.

"And what do you plan on doing with that little sticker you got there? Pick the gristle out of my teeth?"

"I will admit that I am puzzled why you are here alone. It makes for a very disappointing ambush," Yasha noted, keeping his Xenocryst light and feathered in his grasp.

"I'm more than enough to smash a little bird with broken wings. Besides, my men are busy elsewhere. Pillaging is busy work," the bear replied with a grin.

Yasha scowled and feverishly tried to put all of the pieces together, wondering why he was suddenly given the criminal that had eluded the Royal Guard for months and then came neatly wrapped as a gift on his desk. "And this?" he asked, producing the crumpled letter from his coat and tossing it to the floor between them, "Was it Johann that sent me here to find you, hoping you would be able to kill me?"

Strangely, the question drew an angry rumble from the bear. "I don't take orders from that snotty little ferret," he growled. The response convinced Yasha he wasn't lying, for he felt that same contempt any time he thought of Johann. Once more, the pieces of the puzzle went flying into the air and he struggled to find meaning in anything that was happening around him, most especially who it was that had carved the pieces in the first place.

"If not Johann, then who?" he asked quietly, more to himself than the bear.

"That little ferret couldn't pop his daddy's tit out of his mouth if he sneezed," Volgard cawed, thinking of just how distasteful it had been to deal with the entitled little brat for the last few months. He wasn't used to associating with someone that didn't come covered in dirt and grim, so the elitist attitude of the princeling had rubbed him raw on every occasion they met. Strangely, as he looked over the man before him, he felt they were more attuned. "But you. You're different. I can see it in your eyes. You're not like those people. You've lived in the woods."

Yasha slowly lifted his eyes back to him and it made the bear grin, confident he had judged him well. "The old man was right. You're dangerous. I can see why he wants me to make sure you never make it back to that frosty little whore of yours."

The remark made Yasha's hand tighten over his dagger. His jaw tightened in anger. "Most do not last long after speaking of her in that manner," he warned, fighting the fire in his chest but also realizing that if he were to simply burn the bear to ashes, he would never understand the puzzle. Sometimes, it was difficult controlling his passion for Elsa. "But I will grant you this small allowance, just long enough for you to tell me of this man that wants me dead."

"Hah!" the bear roared, not looking intimidated, "Don't wave around that little toothpick and talk tough to me, boy. I've eaten more people than you've ever met."

"Besides, the old man said to keep that a secret," he said in reflection, though his yellow grin dominated his beard and he shrugged wistfully, "Though who're you going to tell when you're nothing more than a puddle on the floor?"

"It was your regent, little bird. He's the one who graciously donated this to us humble animals. He's the power behind the whole thing."

Yasha flinched. "The regent?" he gasped. He knew the regent was manipulative and controlling, but he had never given off the impression that he would resort to using such tactics to achieve his goals. He wasn't even sure what his goals were aside from maneuvering Elsa into picking a suitor that he would endorse, with the most likely candidate being his equally-scheming son. Setting a pack of animals upon the merchants of Fria wouldn't achieve that end, at least not in any way Yasha could see. The more he thought about it, the more it confused him, though he couldn't dismiss the accusation completely from his mind, no matter how hard he might try.

"No, that cannot be. You are lying," he said gruffly.

"Do I look like a man that would lie to you?" Volgard replied, though his tone got distinctly darker with the subject, "You think I'd follow a sniveling little brat around for some pocket change and table scraps? Do you know what it's like to listen to a little ferret bark at you about only taking what's in the caravans and the threats of coming after me with his little guards if I happened to chop someone's head off?" Showing the true level of his contempt, he was frothing at the corners of his mouth as he thought back on his dealings with Johann, and then mused about how much easier it was dealing with his regal father. "Now, the old man's a real piece of work. He gave me handfuls of gold coins to make sure I didn't pop the little ferret's head off, but he didn't give a vole's ass about anything else. He gave me gems and blades and anything else I wanted, just so I'd do as the little princeling said. I guess he has some grand plans for that little snotball of his, though that kid only has one thing on his mind."

"All of this just so he could get his hands up some woman's dress. I wish you'd have brought him with you so I could pop both of your heads together in one go."

Yasha bristled, agonizing over the information. "Why? Why would he do such a thing? What could he hope to gain?" he cried, his feet shuffling slightly as he suddenly had the urge to rush back to Arendelle and find out the truth for himself.

"Damned if I know, but I don't understand old codgers or ferrets. Hell, he even found out about our little scheme to raid your precious Arendelle, but did he try to warn us off or stop us? Hah! The old fart gave us the patrol schedules and the layout of the castle! It's like he wants us to walk right in and smash the place to bits!" he explained, watching as each word sent new waves of fear and panic through his prey.

"You plan on attacking the castle and the regent is _helping_ you? Why?! It does not make sense!" Yasha yelled, feeling helpless in his lack of information but even more so for his distance to those he loved.

"And with his son as baron…by the mountain…"

The young captain suddenly turned from the bear and was met with the wall of timber, now understanding the entire game at the lodge. He had been drawn there and trapped, where the bear would then devour him before going on to do the same to those he cherished most. Placing his hands on the wall, he tried to move it out of the way, though couldn't even budge it, realizing that only someone of Volgard's size would have any hope of clearing the door. Panic made him keep trying while the bear slowly stirred behind him, reaching next to the chair to retrieve the large, ornate axe that had been patiently waiting its debut. A throaty chuckle filled the quiet lodge as he danced the axe in his hand, finding it time to stop talking and do what he did best.

"Going somewhere, birdy? Don't plan on it," Volgard growled happily, thinking that the next little tidbit would stir up the young man even more, and that he very much looked forward to that. "And I don't _plan_ on attacking the castle. I _am_ attacking the castle."

The remark made Yasha freeze against the wall, his hands clawed wildly across it, while his eyes stared into the wood and his breath caught painfully in his throat. Volgard found that he could enjoy the young man's frantic reactions even more. "Right now, my men are scorching your precious castle, with orders to butcher anyone they come across. Oh, but not that saucy little queen or the poppy little princess. I've special plans for them, if you catch my meaning," he continued, watching as tremors were surging through him. He felt bad for having to end this enjoyable distraction, but he had a long ride in front of him if he wanted to get to the castle before his men had too much fun.

"After I've buried you here, I'll be sure to pay them a personal visit while the town burns brightly on the fjord. I don't want to miss that sight, or my special time with them ladies, so be a good lad and go splat fast."

Seeing as he was frozen and trembling, the bear uttered a few more engrossed chuckles before swinging his heavy axe into both hands and preparing to pounce upon his prey, but something quickly stuttered him, though it was no retort or idle threat. It was Yasha turning, his eyes alight with colors of orange and holding fire unlike anything he had ever seen. It stopped the bear instantly in his tracks, making him suspect the information about the prince's lost powers, though as it was nothing more than a spectral glow in his frantic eyes, he decided it couldn't be anything but an illusion.

It did, however, make him hesitate.

"You just gave me one more very good reason to make sure it is you who is buried here," Yasha snarled viciously.

Strangely, that fire lit one of his own and Volgard's grin spread, his own body now trembling at the thought of finally being able to crush the life out of him.

"Then come on, little bird. My axe is dying to meet you!" he roared.

Just as Volgard finished the last word, Yasha was already dashing forward with tremendous speed, cutting the distance between them to nothing before sending an infuriated fist into the bear's face, making him grunt loudly and take a single step back. With the dagger restrained, the strike wasn't a killing blow, but a statement of his flowering rage, though even fueled by that rage, Yasha winced at the sheer bulk of the man and the way the strike made his hand go numb. Dismissing the pain, he was already continuing his assault, coming around to slash the black blade of his dagger across the man's chest and feeling the sensation of flesh coming apart at its razor's edge. Two more slashes tore through the bear's skin and Volgard grunted with each strike, though gave no more ground. Seething, Yasha nimbly pivoted and thrust the dagger powerfully at the man's chest, hoping to end this quickly and get back to the castle, though a resounding chime broke his concentration and brought his assault to a halt.

The large axe had stopped his dagger, and they both sang from the exchange.

There was only a moment before the axe surged forward and struck Yasha in the chest. The wind was knocked from him as he felt the top of the pole crush his chest, making him stagger back. The axe was motionless only a moment before it suddenly spun like a bit, bringing the sharp edge towards his face in an effort to bring about the same quick end, yet Yasha was agile enough to dodge it, even as the curved blade did tear through shoulder of his heavy coat with frightening ease. The axe head then reached the apex of the thrust and came ripping back, this time to catch him at the back of the neck. Once more he avoided the strike as he ducked under the blade, though the axe came thrusting again and he only barely caught it the top with his dagger, using the blade to absorb the strike but also using its force to retreat back, being pushed safely away but feeling how the power behind the thrust made a feeling of numbness seize his entire arm this time.

Coming to a stop a safe distance from the bear, Yasha hacked a few times and rubbed the tender spot at his chest through his heavy coat, looking at the unusual stance the bear had with the axe. Instead of swinging it around as one would expect, Volgard had been using it like a rapier, using his massive strength to thrust it as if it weighed nothing. It wouldn't do as much damage as simply cleaving a man in two, but it would stagger most opponents enough to allow the axe to be used in its natural form. Yasha had escaped it by his speed and agility, though he had been surprised by the technique. Even as the bear casually brought the axe back to him, he looked for any sign that his dagger had found its mark, yet found no blood aside from the stream coming from the beast's nose. The only thing he had slashed was the thick hide of the bearskin the man wore, meaning he had done no meaningful damage at all.

His inability to end it quickly made him grimace.

"What's wrong, little bird? You'll have to do more than flutter around if you think you can kill me!" Volgard roared and brought the axe around and above his head, lurching forward to bring it down at Yasha even at the distance he thought was safe.

At the furthest extension of his reach, the axe slashed down the front of Yasha's coat, cutting him superficially in the process. The axe buried itself in the wooden floor at his feet and Yasha grunted, though quickly planted his foot and rushed past it, thrusting his dagger at the bear's face but finding he rolled his shoulder in order to deflect his advance. He was off balance and his back was turned when the axe was ripped from the floor and swung around, though he was able to gauge the strike and nimbly duck underneath it. As the axe sailed over him, he planted his hands and kicked back into the bear's face, staggering him as he then twisted up to bring his other foot across the side of the bear's head in a powerful, fanning kick. Bringing his momentum to a halt, the captain then came back with the dagger in an icepick grip and planted the blade into the bear's side, making him roar out in pain.

Enraged by the pain, Volgard swung his paw back to grab him, but the captain deflected it upwards with his own, once more revealing the bear's side, where he once more stabbed the black blade into nearly the exact same place. Roaring again and even more infuriated, the bear twisted his entire body around and brought the axe with it, finding it missed its mark once more as Yasha rolled away.

Realizing he didn't want him in so close and feeling furious at the pain, Volgard began wildly swinging, tearing through the paintings and furniture and anything else that got in his way. The lodge was being thrashed and even the support structures were nothing more than twigs as the axe sliced cleanly through them, with the bear roaring loudly in frustration at missing his mark, though Yasha found he was equally unable to land a significant blow. Even when he got in close for a moment, he could only slash at the bearskin or land a glancing strike to the bear's body, nothing that would end the fight and allow him to rush back to protect what he loved. He was getting frustrated at his inability to end it, and he was catching just as many superficial wounds as he was dealing, meaning he wouldn't win the war of attrition. He had to figure out how to cut through the bear and find the man, or he would never win, and his mind was furiously searching his heart for the answer to his problem.

_This must be what Jiang meant when he said not to try and move the mountain with your foot._

_Do I really have no other choice but to use it?_

Feeling rushed, he suddenly focused on the bear and his tantrum, baiting the animal into once more swinging his axe at him. When Volgard complied, he evaded the blow and the axe once more embedded itself in the wooden floor, though this time Yasha didn't retreat. Instead, he slashed down at the man's hand, hoping to render him unable to hold the axe any longer. The bear picked up on his intent and moved his hand, making the dagger chime loudly across the metal handle, though it effectively took away the axe's killing stroke, leaving Yasha to work the inside with his intimate blade, as was his preference.

With a series of quick movements, he slashed and stabbed with the dagger, landing and missing with equal frequency, but making Volgard forget the axe long enough to try and fend off the assaults. This close attack stalled the bear's pace and Yasha was putting the last of his strength into creating a critical opening, which finally came as he evaded a powerful swipe of the bear's paw and saw a clear path to his head.

No longer trying to merely stagger him, he swiftly switched hands with his dagger and brought it at the side of Volgard's head, where the black blade would no longer suffer the resistance of the bearskin and would deliver a fatal blow. Instead of the sickened feeling of blade into skull, he felt his attack fell short as Volgard brought his arm up to take the strike, with the black blade sticking deeply into his forearm. That same arm was now perfectly positioned and shot out to snare Yasha by the throat, which made the young captain hack loudly and lose all of his momentum. As he clawed at the bear's arm and wheezed, the bear suddenly headbutted him for good measure, making him grunt loudly as blood burst from a gash along his brow.

Holding him ruthlessly by the throat, the bear roared and crushed the breath from him, dropping him to his knees and reveling in the position he now had.

"Finally got you! This time, you won't escape!" Volgard howled happily, keeping Yasha on his knees with a steel grip and snatching his axe in his other hand. He had been surprised at how skilled the young man was, confirming his assessment that he was more like the animals than those that lived in the castle, and a small part of him regretted having to kill him, but in the end that was the law of nature and where bears lived in the food chain.

Bears were meant to devour birds. Nothing would ever change that.

After he had sufficiently choked the resistance from him, Volgard threw Yasha to the floor harshly and brought the axe up, looking forward to splitting him in half. Yasha hacked and could barely see between the blood showering one eye and the drifting haze in the other, meaning he had no chance to avoid the blow with the same agility as before.

The axe came screaming down, remorseless and lethal.

The last thing that flashed into his mind was Elsa smiling, then being consumed by flames.

And then, everything became consumed by flames.

Volgard's axe smashed into the wooden floor once more, making a loud crack where screams should have had met it. Instead of the body of a thrashed bird, he was staring at the glowing head of metal that now sat at the end of the handle in his hands, with the molten slag burning the wooden floor black. His axe was no longer an axe, but a bludgeon, melted in fire so hot that he could feel the heat all the way up the handle.

There were still wisps of flames that circled over the floor where the young captain had been.

At the other end of the hall was Yasha, standing ghoulishly from the sudden use of his magic and still breathing heavily. The heat coming from him made his breath like steam and his eyes were glowing brighter than a bonfire, making Volgard forget the axe for a moment as he straightened. Such sorcery was like nothing he had ever seen before.

"What's this devilry? No man can move like that! No man could do this!" he howled.

His voice seemed to wake Yasha from his trance and his glowing orange eyes lifted, giving him the demonic appearance that Volgrad suddenly demanded. After an eternity of restraining the FireHeart and fighting so hard to not succumb to its allure, he had given in and embraced the magic it offered. The slippery slope was underneath his feet as he looked upon the mystic powers of Nazir's Heart as the answer to how he would defeat the bear, making a bizarre expression cross over his face, as if he were betraying himself to save himself and everything important in his world. But there was a familiar resolve in his eyes, and he felt the thrilling sensation of fire in his veins once more.

In truth, using the magic again invigorated him.

"Were I so charitable, I would reveal to you all my secrets, but I am pressed for time and you are undeserving. So I will share only one," he chanted, raising his hand up and watching the horror in the bear's eyes as fire erupted over it. The mystical flames grew like a serpent, spreading into the air and dancing at the whim of its master, then suddenly shrieked and soared through the lodge, trailing a raging inferno behind it that began to devour everything in the bear's hoard. Paintings began to burn. Gold began to melt. Timbers began to turn black, all while Yasha stared on with terribly glowing eyes, master of the magic once more. "The payment for your deeds against my people is forfeit. The blood money given to you by the regent is forfeit."

"Stop! What are you doing?!" Volgrad screamed, looking around for some way to save his treasure, but finding there was nothing he could do. In terror, his only option was the look back to the bird before him, realizing he had been wrong along.

This was no bird.

It was a phoenix rising once more from the flames.

"You are forfeit," Yasha snarled, surrounded by flames and feeling them creeping over him like the embrace of a lover he had left long ago. This was his baptism, and he had forgotten the way the flame resonated with his heart. Just as he had rediscovered his love for Elsa, he rediscovered his affinity to the ancient magic, and the way it made him feel whole.

Embraced by it, he secretly wondered why he had tried to give it up in the first place.

Volgard stepped back, feeling the heat searing at his skin. He was sweating and fearful, and his eyes couldn't leave the monster before him. "Sorcery! They said you no longer had this magic. They said your FireHeart had been lost!"

"You should be honored. No one had yet given me enough reason to truly see what the Heart could do. I am unsure if that is admirable, or just very unfortunate," Yasha replied viciously.

The flames had grown over everything and there was nothing left of the impressive cache that once took its place. It was now just a sea of flame and smoke, and Volgard took a step back, dragging his deformed axe across the wooden floor with a loud, scraping sound.

"Stay back!" he cried, raising the smelted handle in a vain effort to defend himself.

"It is far too late for that," Yasha hissed, slowly reaching back and sliding his black dagger back into its sheath. He didn't need it anymore. "The FireHeart lost, buried in the ice and stone that now covers Fria? I too heard these tales, but allow me to reveal to you the truth."

"The FireHeart is not lost to the mountain," he continued, widening his stance as the bear continued to retreat, though back only as far as the curtain of fire that raged behind him.

"I am the FireHeart!"

Without warning, he suddenly disappeared into a swirling burst of flames, staggering the bear with the supernatural sight. He then appeared to the right, crouched like a predator, then once more disappeared, then appeared to the left, his orange eyes still locked on the terrified bear. He flashed in and out of sight several more times, each time drawing closer, while the panicking animal roared and brought his deformed axe above his head, following pure instincts to try and defend himself from something so indomitable.

By the time he had just brought the handle above his head, Yasha was before him, his hand placed against the bear's chest and the wisps of flames dancing around them both in obedience to their master. The entire approach had happened as quickly as the final, stuttering breath the bear choked down, while Yasha's glowing eyes slowly raised to reveal their true and utter ferocity.

"Burn."

A massive explosion roared from the bear's back, spreading out like wings into the raging inferno. The fiery blast had been so powerful that everything in the churning blaze became a molten sludge of gold and silver, splaying out across the back of the lodge and curling like the crash of giant ocean waves, where they then met the cooler air outside and came to a syrupy halt, clawed out as if to swallow them like the great jaws of a burning beast.

Volgard groaned, feeling his insides charred as he wobbled, then unceremoniously fell backwards to the floor, his massive body crashing down with little pain and no longer feeling the heat of the blaze. The mangled axe fell to his side, a mere shadow of its former self, while he felt a tightness across his back that was strange. Yasha watched him fall, lowering his hand to his side as he felt the pleasure of defeating his enemy. Seeing what he could do to even the most beastly of men renewed the dark pride in his heart, making him stare down at the wheezing man with little mercy. He was already fighting the urge to turn him into a pile of chalky ash that would blow away in the wind.

It was nothing less than he deserved for threatening that which he cared for most.

Suddenly, a searing pain cut through Yasha's chest and he gasped, falling to one knee at the bear's feet, his hand clutching at his coat. Like the time when his life was just about taken by Nazir's curse, using large amounts of his magic was painful, though he had no idea why, now that the FireHeart was a part of him. The FireStep technique he had first used in the Scoria Chamber against Elsa was especially draining, leaving him to struggle with the sensation of an unquenchable fire burning out of control in his body. He had still not perfected it, and it was the quickest way to deplete his magic, even though he had no idea why.

Idly, he wondered if he would ever use his powers as effortlessly as Elsa used hers, even with the FireHeart at his command.

While he was recovering, the mortally wounded bear hacked a black sludge from his lips. It was obvious he would never rise again, though he would use the last of his strength to speak, his voice hoarse and his breathing sounding like the despairing wind that groaned through the desolation of the Weeping Valley.

"You're...a monster," he wheezed, staring up at the burning ceiling and letting a strangely victorious smile cross his face, "But it doesn't matter. You won't make it back in time. Your castle will burn, and your woman will be broken."

"I die here, but you…have lost...everything."

The bear's breath came to a ragged halt and he fell silent, succumbing to the wounds of fire that had charred him inside and out. Yasha looked to him momentarily, his eyes narrowed, though there was very little he could do to him now. In all madness, he was right. The fires hadn't yet burned a hole to the woods beyond, with the glowing wall of melted gold sealing off the opening from his blast. The fire was filling the air with thick smoke, the one aspect of his powers that could cause him harm and the burning in his chest also told him how little magic he had left, making him realize that even if he could free himself from the kiln, he couldn't cover the distance to Arendelle by foot without collapsing or arriving too late to protect anything.

The trap had worked well, rendering him helpless as everything was taken away.

Clenching his hands, he realized he only had one option, but it carried such risks that it made the idea as bitter as the thought of doing nothing. If he failed, he wouldn't live to rescue anyone. Even if he succeeded, he could be so torn up that the result would be the same. In any case, the chances of defending everything he held dear were slight, yet he would take any chance as long as it put him where he needed to be.

Breaking himself to protect what he loved had never caused him to hesitate before.

With the lodge burning around him, Yasha gathered what he needed and focused what was left of his magic into one last burst, not knowing what it would do to him. He had never tried what he was about to try, especially when he was already so exhausted. He wasn't sure if any of his powers would remain, but it was his last hope, and he would never forgive himself for not trying, not with the images burning brightly in his mind, giving him the fuel he needed to risk everything just to see her again.

"Elsa…"

In a powerful flash of heat and light, Yasha once more disappeared into a burst of swirling flames, leaving the lodge to collapse in on itself and burn away to nothing.


	15. Villains Unmasked

**XV**

Villains Unmasked

Elsa stood in the throne room of her castle, her hands clawed out as swirls of icy magic were ready for her command, while her eyes were pensively locked on the standoff before her. Anxious moments of casting her magic everywhere had drained her physically and mentally, making her wobble on her feet, though she knew if she relented even for a moment, she would lose everything, something she could never allow as long as she still could protect that which she had to protect. Standing before her was Johann, his sword drawn and his posture electric. His eyes were fierce and his hand tightly gripped on his sword no matter how many wounds he received, for he had already committed to this and would see it through until the very end. He was heaving as desperately as she was, blood dripping from his body and walls of ice surrounding him, but not as the result of her magic being cast against him.

The ice had been protecting him against the waves of animals that continued to pour through the breached doors of the hall, their cries and claws lashing out against the last line of defense for the throne room of Arendelle.

Staring past his back, Elsa gasped a few tired breaths and once more trembled at the fearsome creatures that had invaded her world. They were still several of them locked in battle with the remainder of his escort, with many more lying around the throne room, some moving and some not. The Royal Guard had been decimated, while their queen grimaced at the blatant loss of life, feeling inadequate against the blood that was shed for her. Behind her, she could hear the whimpers and cries of her court, so far untouched by the beasts but also unaccustomed to the carnage of battle. The sound of Kristoff groaning loudly made her turn, seeing Anna crouched next to him and tending to the arrow that was lodged in his shoulder, a product of his heroics at the first wave of animals that made it through. The look in her sister's eyes made Elsa take a few shuddering breaths, then look back to the battle where several of the beasts were trying to maneuver against Johann.

Ironic to all that had been between them, she was now protecting him as critically as he was protecting her.

"To the right!" she shouted as three of the beasts lurched forward, though he had already anticipated it and was shifting his feet to meet them.

The first animal slashed at him, which he deflected with his sword before crushing his face with the armored gauntlet around his hand and sending him sprawling away as Johann was already pivoting to meet another attack. He once more used his armored sleeve to stun the beast and let a quick draw of his sword finish the encounter. The third of the attackers had avoided him all together and tried to dash at the queen, though she had tripped him up with a frozen foot, making him easy prey as Johann turned to finish him. As he did, a whistling sound filled the air again, followed by the loud crack. At another flick of Elsa's hand, a shield of ice had intercepted two arrows fired from the other side of the room, holding them in the air before Johann's exhausted body.

Seeing that she had once more saved his life, he left the dying beast to take a position as her vanguard again, taking a quick assessment of his remaining forces and not liking their odds, though he wasn't above showing his gratitude for her help.

"Thank you again, Your Highness," he panted, wiping the sweat from his chin as he leveled his sword to ward off the remaining animals.

Elsa panted as well, happy she had been in time to defend him. Quietly, she was at her limit, for even as she was using her magic to help him fend off the attackers, she had already used a much larger portion to send an army of snowmen into the town to help in defending her people, leaving her with only enough to support Johann against those that were before them. The nature of battle disturbed her as well. She wasn't a warrior and didn't have the heart for bloodshed, though defending the ones she loved made her mind frighteningly lucid, moving her magic nimbly around the throne room to strike out at the rabid animals.

When it came to protecting Anna and the others, her instincts were sharp, even if they weren't honed.

"You're going to get tired sometime, little ferret. I'm going to spill your guts all over the floor," one of the animals hissed at Johann, trying to find a position to strike at him. Like the others, he had been utterly infuriated at the effective defense of the throne room, and he was wishing they had something to tip the scales.

For that, all they had to do was wait, and a bear would soon arrive.

Johann focused on the beasts and his sword continued to sway slowly, reminding them of the consequences of trying to rush in again. "You'll go no farther. I'll not have my queen sullied by the likes of you," he warned.

"Those're pretty words coming from the one that let us attack the caravans. Trying to look good for that lady there?" the beast sneered.

Johann spit indignantly at the taunting, not willing to engage in wordplay with animals, but the revelation piqued Elsa's interest and she shifted her eyes to her knight, caught off-guard by the accusation. "Let them attack the caravans? What is he talking about?"

"Forgive me, Queen Elsa, but now isn't the best time for this," he replied, keeping his back to her and feeling the weight of his crimes in those last, desperate moments, "I'd be willing to discuss all of my sins with you when there aren't vagrants in the throne room."

His response was cryptic and she glared at him, trying to figure out his mysteries, though the bandit seemed encouraged by their discourse and laughed venomously, seeing a chance to overrun the witch queen and her jaded knight. "You're dreaming. You were spared this too long, little princeling. You thought you could order us around and keep Vol on a leash, but nobody tells the Bear what to do without finding themselves in his jaws," he growled, his yellowed teeth flashing brightly through his fur and his feet drawing forward slowly.

"It's something that other captain has surely found out by now."

Johann winced. The mention of the Bear made him think of Volgard's absence from the battlefield and why their most vicious warrior wasn't the first into the throne room. The reference to another captain tied in a new dynamic and he instantly began putting together the puzzle, as useless as it was to his plight. There was only one person that could warrant a personal meeting with the Bear of Kobold, and his hand tightened on his sword at the realization of just how far the Bear was going out of his way to deal with him.

"Yasha," he seethed.

While the name had little meaning to the beasts, Elsa instantly flared, showing that his mention had the ability to dominate her in even the direst of situations. "Yasha? What about him? Where is he?" she demanded, though she wasn't sure if it was directed at the bandit or the baron. In the flow of battle, she had been so focused on protecting her sister that she had pocketed her concerns for him, though hearing that the animals knew of his fate made them burst back into her chest, where they seized her and distracted her.

Suddenly, she had one more thing to be desperate for.

"Dead, my lady. He wandered into a trap in the Misty Woods. No one survives an encounter with Volgard the Bear," the bandit grinned, signaling with a hidden hand that her lapse would give the others a chance to rush forward at once, ending this senseless struggle with sheer numbers.

At the thought, her eyes fell to the floor and her chest shuddered, showing that just the suggestion of his death had the capacity to destroy her. It felt unthinkable, for she couldn't accept that he was mortal, or that anything in the world could conquer him. Yet the undeniable fact that he wasn't around when she needed him most gave credence to the claim, and her throat squeezed out an agonizing whimper.

"No," she gasped.

Before her, Johann listened to the news with little reaction. It wasn't that he didn't feel something, but rather that he didn't know how to respond. Part of him was skeptical, for he was almost as convinced of Yasha's immortality as she was, yet at the thought of that beast finally taking the thorn from his side, he wasn't happy. He wasn't sure if it was because he wanted to be the one to stand victorious over his rival or because the sound coming out of Elsa made his heart churn strangely, but suddenly imagining his world without that rivalry was a bitter thing for him to swallow, even if that world was everything he had ever wanted.

The thought of Yasha's death disturbed so much that he didn't even notice when Elsa's hands fell away from their task of protecting him.

Seeing the two of them react as they did, the animals found the opportunity they had been looking for, betting that without the Snow Queen's benevolent hand over him, the knight would quickly fall. Coiled and ready, they had just branded their weapons when a loud cry was heard from the hallway behind them, staggering their assault before it started and drawing all attention to the body that came sliding in across the floor. It was one of their pack, but the beast wasn't moving. A flurry of questions filled the room as both groups were frozen, watching the shadowed hallway for whatever had broken the beast.

As they waited for the answers, it came to them, slowly emerging from the shadows, accompanied by a horrific scraping sound that echoed off the walls and seemed to vibrate the very air on the hall.

The throne room shuddered at his arrival.

"Yasha!" Elsa cried.

He appeared walking slowly but forcefully into the room, his coat torn and bloody, while a dry, black sludge sloughed off his face with every stuttering step. He was dragging something behind him, its tip sounding a dirge across the floor, and his eyes were fiercely glaring at the animals before him, watching how they had entered into Elsa's world and surrounded her, and how only her magic and the surprise of Johann's position had endured their assault.

Seeing her untouched made an obvious wave of relief show in his shoulders, but the relief was momentary, as his eyes moved from her and back to the beasts, realizing that he still had to deal with them, lest they get their claws on her.

"It is over. Your bear is dead," Yasha said, throwing what he held forward and stunning the animals with its loud, metallic clamor. Volgard's axe came to a rattling silence between them, its slaggy head completely deformed but the handle still carrying the signature carvings that had once marked its elegance. Just seeing it in that state made them stir, whispering amongst themselves and staring incredulously at the single man that had apparently bested the Bear. Some didn't believe it at first, while others seemed relieved at the idea, though all of them were stayed from their assault and suddenly reassessing their priorities.

Whatever morale they possessed cracked, and without it they suddenly found themselves surrounded by the powerful Snow Queen, the skillful knight and the monster that had killed the Bear.

Yasha, while being utterly exhausted and doing all he could to simply stand straight, picked up on their mood and the opportunity it gave them, hoping it would be enough to see the end of the day. "The others in the town are contained, and a contingent of the Royal Guard is on their way here to secure the throne room. You will have no other help, and you could not hope to overwhelm us. There is no possibility for you to succeed here," he declared, hoping to buy time until those guards arrived and that he could get by with more than just a convincing performance.

"Accept surrender, and our queen may show you mercy," he continued as he slowly drew his Xenocryst from his belt, the black blade still stained with the blood of the Bear.

"Refuse, and be assured that I will not."

A tense moment passed in the throne room, with emotions running high and whispers among the crowds. The bandits were feverishly trying to weigh their options, while all other eyes were on Yasha and the way he commanded the fate of the entire battle. Elsa was barely restraining herself from dashing through the animals to meet him, while Johann was glaring fiercely, feeling a sickening mixture of anger and relief at seeing him arrive. Even the other nobles were wrapped up on their savior, while Anna couldn't help but smile at seeing her friend safe and sound.

Amongst the lightening of the air, only the regent looked at him with eyes that were full of silence, darkness and concern.

The tension of the room came to a shattering close when the first of the bandits dropped his sword to the ground, the thundering signal that he would rather face judgment than try the one that had killed Volgard the Bear. With his hands held out to show his submission, he suddenly became more man than beast and the others with him followed suit, dropping bows and blades until they all stood there, suddenly eager to receive the radiant Snow Queen's mercy. As they surrendered, the guards that Yasha had mentioned came spilling into the throne room behind him, branding their swords and seizing the bandits, binding them tightly with their blades and looking around for orders. Some looked to Yasha, who let out a sigh of relief and felt the dagger in his hand loosen. Others looked to Johann, who continued to glare harshly at Yasha and didn't loosen his grip on his sword. Some still looked to Elsa, as she rushed forward through the sea of bandits and guards, just in time to catch her prince as he wobbled forward and nearly collapsed to the ground.

"Yasha!" she cried and supported him, keeping him upright.

From the utter despair she felt at hearing of his death to the absolute elation at having him in her arms, she felt a bit off balance as she pawed over him in spite of the many eyes that watched, but she was totally unconcerned with anything but the fact that he was breathing, at that she could feel his heartbeat through her chest. Johann watched the embrace bitterly, then finally lowered his sword, letting the tip of it touch the ground with a single, lonely chime. His body was burning with the wounds of battle, but it seemed inconsequential to the pain in his chest. Seeing the way the woman he had loved since childhood showed her unbridled devotion to another made a shuddering sigh slip from him, though he realized that everything that had happened was his fault, and that many people had suffered simply because he couldn't see what was right before his eyes.

As a way to avoid the scene, he looked to the magnificent sleeve of armor on his arm, a frown working its way across his face. Earlier, he had put it on in order to track down Yasha and finally end things between them with a formal duel, wanting to either finally defeat his rival, or simply disappear from a world that wouldn't let him have Elsa. Now, with the castle filled with smoke and blood, he found the idea of the duel distasteful, and he suddenly realized that while he had only ever seen him as an enemy and obstacle, the queen he sought was the illusion, nothing more than the fragile doll of his dreams that both Elsa and Yasha had alluded to.

Bitterly and without a word, he accepted his defeat, and also accepted that even when he turned his eyes from them, he couldn't escape the fact that he could no longer see them in any other way but together.

"Get them out of here," he muttered as he turned back to the prisoners, signaling to his men that he was tired of seeing animals and wanting to distract himself from the pain of looking the other way, "Attend to the wounded. Gather anyone else that is able and prepare to go help the townspeople. There are undoubtedly strays that need to be rounded up. Let's clean this mess up."

While the baron was busy attending to the kingdom and the prisoners were taken out, a sigh of relief filled the throne room, followed by the chattering of excited nobles. Anna once more began to fawn over Kristoff's wound and called for a doctor, while the queen and her captain remained isolated, but tightly knit together as they assessed one another for injury.

"Look at these wounds. It looks like you really did fight some kind of animal. Oh, you're bleeding!" Elsa cried as she touched the gash above his eye, noting that his forced expressions had caused the wound to bleed. When he grunted in pain and ducked away, she grimaced at her clumsy fingers and gave him an apologetic look, though she could still barely contain the relief at seeing him alive. "Sorry."

The cut was nothing but an annoyance and he shook his head, dismissing her concerns. "It is nothing. It looks worse than it is," he said, though he knew that was more of a lie than anything. He was racked with exhaustion, and the wounds from his fight with Volgard burned at every corner of his body. If that had been all, he could have truly waved off her concerns, but he was also utterly drained of his magic, so much so that he didn't even feel the presence of the FireHeart. Using his FireStep to travel such a far distance had been more terrifying than he imagined, yet it had put him close enough that he could manage the rest, though he wasn't sure he would ever use his magic again.

The fact that he was now had Elsa in his arms was reason enough to justify the apparent loss of his magic, though he imagined if he ever recovered his powers, he would never try that again.

"What happened to you? They said you went to the Misty Woods. And what's all this talk about bears?" she asked, knowing there was quite the tale behind his injuries.

"Indeed. I think that's a story we'd all like to hear," the regent suddenly added, breaking the silence he had endorsed since the battle had taken the throne room, though his eyes were solely on Yasha now, and it was apparent that while everyone would like to hear the story, he would be the one most interested in the details.

When Yasha heard his voice, his body tensed up so much that Elsa winced, stepping back slightly to see why he suddenly reacted so wildly. In spite of the subsiding tides of battle, the look on his face sent an alarm through her, for the way he glared at the regent suddenly reminded her of the only other time she had seen such a furious look on him, in a time that she had tried long and hard to forget.

The only other time she had seen that look on his face was when he had been looking at his own father, King Nazir.

"Yasha?" she asked, fearful in light of what those memories held.

Without warning and in spite of his exhaustion, he abruptly broke from her and walked forcefully towards the regent. The silence and speed of his approach made the regent's body tense as well, something that infected the entire room and drew Johann from his delegation. When Yasha reached him, his hand flew out and seized him by the collar, his other hand bringing the black blade of his dagger to his throat, a move that instantly froze those that witnessed it and drew a frantic cry from those it affected most.

"Yasha!" Elsa cried.

"What do you think you're doing, Yasha? Let go of my father!" Johann roared, his sword instantly raised back up but his feet chained by just how dangerously the black blade scraped against his father's skin.

As much as the regent had tried to prepare for it, the seizure made him grunt loudly and suck in a sharp breath, the sensation of a razor-sharp blade against his throat and the fear in his chest potent and sobering. As he looked to the fiery captain his own eyes widened, for in the depths of those pale gray eyes he saw a distant orange fire churning, something that let slip the fate of the FireHeart. A silent revelation overtook him and a great many things suddenly made sense, though one thing still lingered as a great unknown. From the moment he had seen Yasha return, he had wondered about what had happened in the Misty Woods, and most importantly what had been said.

Having him bear his blade so angrily, the regent was starting to get an idea of the answer to that.

"Explain yourself, Captain."

"It was you! You have caused all of this madness! You paid these animals to obey your son. You gave them the patrol schedules and allowed them to march into the castle! Why?" Yasha demanded, throttling him slightly and making the blade cut into his skin, something that made the old noble grunt again and made his son flare behind him, both from the sight and the accusations.

"Have you gone mad? This was all my doing! I'm the cause of this!" Johann yelled loudly, his sword tense in his hand and his guilt tempering his action to defend his father. Listening to him tie his noble father into this disaster started to reignite his anger towards him, making the atmosphere in the hall volatile once more, though for far darker reasons. "Remove your hand from my father , Yasha,or I swear to you I will do it myself!"

Yasha was beyond words and continued to heave loudly, both from his exhaustion and rage. He wasn't thinking clearly and he only cared about one thing – to expose the wicked father. With the pain of his past raging in his chest, he swore that he would bring out the truth, regardless of the cost.

"Tell them," he growled loudly, once more doing all he could to control his blade.

The regent seemed uninterested in revealing any of his secrets.

"Tell them!"

There lasted a moment in the room that surmounted the tension of battle. With Yasha's blade at the regent's throat and Johann's blade ready to defend him, no one could speak and no one could move, with the weight of the moment resting on the razor edge of a black-bladed dagger. Just as Johann was about to blindly take matters into his own hands, there was the elegant movement of blue across the hall as Elsa acted, not speaking in the wake of this crisis and walking forcefully towards the conflict. Her intent to govern the situation was obvious and everyone held their breath, wondering if even the Snow Queen had the power to temper the fire in Yasha's eyes.

Their answer came when she quietly came to his side and her slender hand rose up to his arm, not forcing it away, but simply showing him that she was there, and that she was looking at him. "Yasha," she said softly, watching the way her presence made him wince, though he remained firmly focused on the villain before him. More than anyone, she could understand the significance of his mood, and why he was reacting so harshly to a father regarding his son in such a way. She wouldn't yet address the truth of his claims, or look towards the regent, but rather she just attended to the one she loved, to try to quench the fury in his eyes.

"Don't do this," she whispered.

Yasha panted a few times, finding her presence distracting to his rage. "Their leader told me everything, Elsa. It was the regent that planned it all. He caused all of this! You must believe me," he snarled, keeping the blade tightly against the skin and fully intent on dealing with the treachery before him.

"I believe you, Yasha. Always," she assured him, watching the way it staggered him further and the way the tension began to bleed from his arm. "But this isn't how we deal with it. Not like this. If the regent had a hand in this, then I'll be the one deal with him, in my own way."

"Put the knife down, and trust me."

For the first time since he had heard the regent's voice, Yasha looked from him, his pale gray eyes cast on her and his breathing still labored. His every instinct told him to deal with him in the most direct way he could imagine, for he recognized just how dangerous he was, even if Elsa didn't. If she were to fall under his spell once more or let him command her as he always had, there would be no justice to his crime and no way to spare them all the future from repeating. If it kept them from once more going through the trials they had endured since he came to Arendelle, he would gladly be the villain again.

Yet, with her eyes on him, he found his hand wouldn't move, and that he could only do as she commanded.

Pushing down all of his instincts, he slowly looked back to the regent and pulled the Xenocryst from his throat, showing that while Elsa had spared him, the fury in him wasn't lessened in the least, and that he should take a moment to truly appreciate the lease on life she had given him.

"You live by her will alone," he warned, dropping the dagger to his side and stepping back, but keeping his eyes on him, to deter any inappropriate conduct in her presence.

Seeing that he had relented, Elsa led the room in a sigh of relief, though she was then quick to turn her gaze on the old man before her, the one she called mentor and father. He had once more been uncharacteristically quiet and the look he showed now was unlike anything she had ever seen on him. Somehow, in spite of their long and storied history, she found herself believing Yasha's claim too easily for her own comfort, as if the very idea that he could act so wickedly was never beyond the image she had for him.

"Is it true?" she asked quietly.

"Surely you don't believe that I would ever…" he began, but was rocked into silence as she suddenly raised her voice over his.

"Is it true?"

The look in her eyes showed that his attempts to evade the question with his usual charisma wouldn't pardon him and that if Yasha had accused him of having a purple horn growing out of his forehead, she would have demanded the same question. The depths of their connection had never been more apparent than when he looked at the two of them now, as they stubbornly demanded his guilt and no longer allowed themselves to be moved about like pieces on the board.

Strangely, he found that fact comforting. "If it is, Elsa, what would you do?" he responded after careful consideration, watching the way even the slightest admission deconstructed the reverence she had in her eyes.

"Why? Why would do such a thing?" she asked painfully, her face twisted by the thought of such intimate betrayal.

"To put you back on the right path. To make sure you chose the right future, for you and for the kingdom," he explained, once more bleeding off his noble presence. His eyes moved to Johann, the son that silently stared back, as broken by the admission as Elsa was.

Elsa's eyes followed. "You did all of this for Johann? To make him into the suitor I'd choose?" she gasped.

The way the regent looked back at her, bathed in the reason she couldn't grasp made her eyes fall away, her hand pressed against her lips, as if to somehow brace them against the reality of the last few months of misery. It had been bad enough to fend off Johann's advances when her heart resided elsewhere, but to imagine that the suffering of so many people had hinged on the simple wish of a father trying to crown his son made her once more question how such evil could exist in the world, just as she had done long ago when learning of King Nazir's wicked plans for his son.

"I can't believe it," she whispered.

"Don't be so melodramatic. Everything I've done was for the good of Arendelle. All of it," the regent snorted, dismissing her performance for one of ancient creed and assumed destiny, "One day, you may be old enough to appreciate that."

Her eyes shot up at him, feeling her skin bristle in anger as the smell of smoke still burned within her nose. "You think this is good for Arendelle? The castle is on fire! People are hurt! How could this possibly be for the good of Arendelle?"

"You're still so young, and you don't understand that sometimes sacrifice is needed to attain the greater good," he replied, looking out of the windows and the obvious chaos that still gripped the kingdom in the far distances beyond the castle walls. "You're concerned for the fires around you? The suffering of your people? Good. That will harden your resolve to do all that you can to protect them the next time. That will keep you from carelessly giving away the world your father and I worked so hard to build!"

The last of his words came out sharper than the rest, revealing that while he flaunted such a noble banner of service and duty, the depth of his heart was in the things he held in his hands, and the things he could control.

Hearing him invoke the memory of her real father made Elsa flare even more in anger. "You'd sacrifice the people just to see your son sitting on the throne because you think that's what's right for Arendelle? It's still just you trying to shape my life as you see fit?" she cried, ironically grateful that the battle had drained her of her magic and that her emotions couldn't cause it to rage out of control.

With how angry she felt at the moment, she felt like she could once more turn Arendelle into a frozen wasteland.

"Father, if I had known that these were the lengths you would go to…" Johann suddenly stammered, his face twisted in the same sense of betrayal and his eyes still looking for some kind of assurance that none of it was true, and that all of the horrors that had fallen on the kingdom had been because of his stupid pride and blindness, not because his father had been pulling at the strings all along.

"You're not the only one drowning in disappointment, Johann. I handed you this chance to show your worth and prove to everyone why you should be king. All of your own scheming was shallow and ill-conceived, and you showed just how inexperienced you really are in carving the world around you. You should've grabbed the crown that was before you instead of playing silly games in the queen's bedchambers!" he boomed and Johann was taken aback, unable to formulate any response.

At the moment, the regent once more dominated the room, for everyone was silenced by him either because of betrayal or anger, and he was starting to feel the impact of watching his carefully crafted world crumble away. It took him a moment to regain his composure. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be too disappointed. After all, you did what you had to, but there was one variable neither of us could have planned for, one that may have just been unconquerable," he continued, finally moving and seeing how the motion rippled through the room.

His movements sent a wave of tension back through Yasha as he sidestepped Elsa and faced him fearlessly in spite of the black dagger that continued to linger in his hand.

"I've not met many men that I couldn't handle in one way or another, much less let them turn their fangs on me as you have. While I wasn't certain if you'd survive your encounter with the Bear, I was quite sure you'd not be able to return here as quickly as you did and take the moment of triumph away from my son," the regent said, trying to hide the odd respect he had for that list of accomplishments, though there was something else that spurred him on, something that spoke tenfold of the secrets Yasha still possessed. The discovery of one of those secrets made a small smile curl at his lips, as he mused that not even Elsa knew of it.

"Then again, after seeing that look in your eyes, I've grossly underestimated many things about you, haven't I?"

Yasha had no idea of the secrets he had spilled in those fiery glances. He was now as much in the dark about the survival of the FireHeart as anyone else, and the only thing that burned in his eyes now was his utter contempt for this father, and the way it made him look backwards to the pain of his own past.

"And who does not suffer the consequences of your foul schemes? Even your own son…" he snarled.

"Ah yes, after scolding you for the way you've treated your father that I'm very much the villain for the way I've treated my son. But regardless if you believe me or not, it was for his own good," the regent suddenly interrupted, waving off his contempt as easily as he waved off his words. Slowly, his eyes shifted back to Johann and he continued his ruthless assessment, finding that even though he was the villain, he felt just as much betrayed by his expectations as any of them. "As he stands now, he's a poor choice to take Elsa's hand and lead the kingdom. He's impatient and entitled, and doesn't see how ambition and service can exist together, if properly weighted against one another," he explained, then looked back to Yasha as he broadened his criticisms. "You're very much like him, you know, too focused on the things right in front of you to see anything else. You're not ready to be king either. It's in your eyes. You're just a tepid little illegitimate that…"

A resounding crack filled the air of the throne room and once more the air was frozen. All eyes were on Elsa, who had suddenly slapped the regent so forcefully that it shattered his entire soliloquy. He couldn't recall the last time anyone had struck him, nor he could grasp the exact feelings he felt when he looked back to her and saw just how brilliantly her eyes were flashing. While a part of him was furious at her impudence, another part of him was shocked at how willful she had become, even turning her hand against him.

That part of him was secretly proud she had finally shown some initiative.

"How could you do all of this? I loved you like a father! How can you still stand there and presume to decide who's worthy to be my king?" she cried, her eyes angry but her lips pulled into a sad grimace.

Running his hand over the redness on his cheek, his voice suddenly softened and became more like she remembered, firm but always affectionate, regardless of the mood. "Oh Elsa, I've only ever wanted what's best for you, just as Adgar did. Even if you didn't know what that was yourself. As I've always told you, you don't exist in the world as others do, because of your station and because of your magic, and the person you choose to marry will join you in that lonely place where no one else can stand. Is it so wrong to be sure that you pick the right person to share in your isolation?" he asked.

"You're wrong. I don't have to be isolated from the rest of the world. That's something I learned from Anna," she replied, her sister giving her strength as she always did, "And what I've learned from others is that we'll be the ones that determine Arendelle's future, by our hands and by our decisions, without the secrets and lies that you use to control the world around you. Your world isn't the world I want, and it's not the world I choose. I'm not alone anymore, Regent. I have people that care for me and help me figuring out what's best for the kingdom."

"And when I marry, it will be because I'm in love with him, not because he'll make a perfect king. That's also my decision, and it doesn't require you or anyone else to endorse it."

The regent's expression soured and he showed his displeasure at her tone. "That's very assertive of you. Not very characteristic of the child I once knew."

"I'm not the child you once knew, and it's also my duty to hold the one responsible for this catastrophe and make sure he can't do any more harm to Arendelle in the name of Arendelle," she declared, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin, reminding him that no matter what expectations he had, there was only one person who ruled over the kingdom, and she was standing before him with his fate in her hands.

"Regent Stenson, I'm ordering you under arrest for your crimes, stripped of your titles and responsibilities, and put into the dungeon until a more appropriate punishment can be arranged. You don't have to worry about the future of Arendelle. It's no longer your concern."

"Take this man away."

The extraordinary orders hung in the air, with even the remaining guards looking around to see who would be the first to uphold them. The royal court was rocked by the ferocity of their queen, while the regent stared forward, silently waiting to see just how much weight her words carried. She showed unyielding belief in the commands she had given, not moving her eyes from him, but simply waiting for everyone to get over their shock and do what was right.

In the end, it was all a ruler could do – to trust in those that trusted her.

The first of the guards to move did so without regret, feeling inspired by the sight of his queen facing down this goliath of ancient Arendelle. He quickly moved to the regent's side, sliding his hand under his arm and shaking him from his defiant stance, something that caused another to get over his shock and move to the other arm. One other guard finally stepped behind him, trapping him against the will of the queen, all while everyone marveled in her rule, and the way she had stepped out of all shadows to truly find her place on the throne.

The only one that didn't obey her was the single man that blocked the guards that began to escort the regent away, his posture dangerous and his sword still drawn.

"Wait," Johann said quietly.

His eyes were cast onto the floor and not to the shameful escort of his father. His face was drawn by regret, anger and fear, while his eyes finally rose up, revealing that his own heart was wandering and that his hand might soon follow. Everyone was struck silent by the act.

To the defiance he showed the queen, it was Yasha that stepped out and faced him, sparing her the task of dealing with him. "Do not let your father's sins be your own, Johann. If you have any honor left from this, you will submit to her will," he warned, his hand tightening around his dagger. "Do not make me enforce it upon you."

Johann continued to stare at the regent, ignoring the threat and anything else around him. "Father, I…" he started, though found not even his voice could withstand the shroud over him. Every instinct told him to fight for what he believed in, yet he wasn't sure what it was anymore. His father was blood, but blood had been betrayed. Buying Elsa's hand with the lives of the innocent was a line he had walked, but after hearing how far his father had gone over that line, he could no longer blindly obey or be a part of his vision of the future.

If being king meant stepping over the bodies of the people, he discovered that he shared in his father's assessment of him that he was no king at all.

With the strangest look in his eyes, the regent looked at his son, no longer belittling him or entitling him or handling him at all. "You must do as you must, Johann. In spite of your shortcomings, I'm confident of the man you are, and the man you'll become," he offered, showing that he was beyond fighting his fate and that he was leaving Johann's fate completely in his own hands for the first time in his life.

Johann struggled against that responsibility, his hand still gripping his quivering blade, until he finally let it fall once more, to allow the flow of the world to align to Elsa's will.

"Do as the queen commands."

As the regent was finally escorted from the throne room, those that witnessed his fall began to murmur and rave, amazed at the history they had seen there. Elsa finally let out a deep breath and looked to her wounded prince, hoping to fawn over him once more, though she found him still glaring forward, his black dagger gripped tightly, his eyes still on Johann. Following his eyes, she realized that there was still one thing to take care of and that silently in her heart, she had already decided on how best to handle it.

"Johann," she called, making the room hush once more as his tired eyes snapped up to her.

"Yes...Your Majesty," he replied hesitantly.

"You aren't blameless in this matter. I accept that this attack was beyond your knowledge or control, but your actions helped precipitate this disaster and you've demonstrated conduct unbecoming of the baron of the Royal Guard," she said sternly, her expression showing that while she was more charitable in her regard for him in light of the way he had defended her, she wasn't willing to let him escape the consequences of his actions.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

His eyes fell from her, his defiance washing away in light of his honor. Before the disaster, he might have defended himself, or possibly even tried his hand against her, for all of his hubris had begun to turn him into his father, though he could only see it after his father had fallen. Now that he was nothing before her, he could only lay his sword on the ground before her as he dropped to his knee, willing to accept the same pointed punishment that he had just been bound to execute on his own father.

"I have no excuses to offer you, and will accept any judgment you see fit," he replied.

"Very well," she said, once more framing herself regally and speaking in a voice that would certainly resonate within the throne room, "Johann Stenson, I relieve you of your responsibilities as baron of the Royal Guard effectively immediately, and bestow them on someone who has demonstrated his unwavering commitment to Arendelle...and its queen."

A wave of murmurs flooded the hall as her attention moved to her side where Yasha had been standing. His face showed that he wasn't been prepared for her favor, and he was instantly mirroring Johann's previous defiance, though against this appointment she suggested.

"Wait, Elsa," he objected, finding he was too exhausted and beaten to defy her, and that her eyes were showing that she wouldn't allow anyone to overrule her on this, even if that person was him.

After silencing his objections with her eyes and seeing that Johann was utterly submissive in his fate, she turned to the others of the royal court, trying not to be distracted by Anna's giddy grin, and making sure that everyone living in the regent's world would understand that this was her world now, one that she was going to build by her own will and according to her own heart. "By tradition, the king and queen always have the final say in the appointment of the baron, who is chosen from the standing ranks of captain. I trust no one has any objections to this considering it was Yasha who discovered the treachery in our midst, and saved everyone else in this room?" she said powerfully, watching the crowds waver in silence and happy when no one voiced any dissension.

She had to fight the urge to smile at that silence.

"Good," she continued, looking back to Yasha and feeling secretly amused by the utter terror on his face. "Now, as for Johann, since he comes from the Royal Guard, I will let his punishment be decided by our new baron." She knew how much he had resisted the idea of ruling over a kingdom, even as much as he did so for the one that no longer existed. He was his own worst enemy when it came to wearing a crown, though she had finally figured out how to help him defeat those fears and help him step towards becoming the king she always wanted him to be.

She simply had to drop the crown right on top of him and give him no chance to get away.

Yasha was glaring at her, feeling completely manipulated again. While it wasn't such a bad prospect when the one that ruled over him was Elsa, he was feeling the weight of the world upon him already and wasn't ready to meet it in his current state. The expectations and affection she had in her eyes, however, made the exhaustion bleed away and he slowly looked over to his rival, who was bitterly silent and shaking visibly by the turn of events. It was ironic that it was now Yasha that stood at the apex of the Guard, holding his very fate in his hands, while still harboring all of the anger that boiled up when thinking of all he had suffered.

To now have the opportunity to deliver that suffering back tenfold was extremely tempting.

"Stand up," Yasha commanded as his first order as baron, watching the demand make Johann shudder in indignation, then slowly rise to meet his eyes. "We have a sordid history, you and I. You have acted with contempt, putting into danger both my people and yours, while fulfilling your own desires and ambitions. By all measure, I should throw you into the dungeon until your hair is as gray as your sense of honor. And you still stand here and claim you have nothing to say for yourself?"

Johann stared back, indignant but guilty. He knew it was all true, and that he had no defense, yet continued to fight him with every ounce of strength he had, if only because that was all they ever had between them. "Nothing I could say relieves me of my sins, but that's beyond the point. Why don't you get on with it? This is what you've always wanted," he replied acidly.

Yasha dismissed his resentment. "If you have nothing to say in your defense, then you will instead speak with your deeds. I will give ample time to do so," he decreed, his eyes showing a glimmer of both mercy and cruelty, for the verdict he was about to lay on him was both merciful and cruel, something that satisfied both parts of Yasha's heart. "You will remain in the Royal Guard at the rank of captain, and spend every moment repenting for your sins by protecting that which you profess to love most. You will lead men by example, and be a shining beacon of obedience and duty to any that look upon you. You will not escape the consequences of your deeds by embracing guilt, but by embracing honor."

"That is your sentence, Johann, and it is effective for life."

The room ignited with murmurs and no one could believe the decision, most especially Johann, who suddenly flew in a tirade as he felt the old rivalry flare up once more. "Are you mocking me? This is no punishment! I should be imprisoned or cast out from the kingdom, not given this token appointment and forced to grovel at your every command!" he raged, though seeing how callously Yasha listened to his objections, he found himself even more bewildered.

Looking for another course for his objections, he turned to Elsa, but found she had much the same expression, as if she had expected him to do what he did, showing that their connection had been far deeper than Johann ever imagined. The magnificence of the couple that stood before him stifled the whines of his verdict, and he suddenly realized what a fool he had been to ever think he could have come between them.

He hadn't ever come close to breaking their bond.

"Why would you do this after all that I've done to you? To you both?"

Yasha let out a slow breath before answering him. "There was a man much like you, who did not always act as he should. He also made some terrible mistakes, but was given a chance by two kind hearts, and allowed to better himself through his actions, despite how much he did not feel he deserved it," he recalled, remembering why he could manage such clemency as it was Elsa and Anna that stood firmly behind him. "You stood fast and protected the things I care most about. I do not take that lightly. Can you show that same courage in proving to the queen and to me that you are a man worthy of once more protecting Arendelle from anything that might seek to do it harm?"

His defiance melted away and his ambitions smothered, Johann took a moment to try and comprehend the mercy, though he couldn't wrap his head around it. When it all ended, he could only accept that he had never been fated to wear a crown, but rather to serve those that did. Both Elsa and Yasha had been standing before him for many months, yet it was only at that moment that he realized instead of seeing a doll and rival, what was before him now was a king and queen, the rulers of his kingdom and deserving of his devotion.

The realization made him want to hide his eyes, which he did as he dropped to his knee once more, and surrendered himself to their will.

"You shouldn't even ask it of me. I'll do everything and more to prove myself worthy of this. I swear it to you, my baron. My queen," he declared loyally.

"I'm yours to command."

"I will hold you to it, Johann. Believe that if you believe in nothing else," Yasha replied, glad to see he had finally shook off the stigma he bore and acted like a man he could accept as a rival, even if his arrival was a bit late and wholly unwarranted to the cause.


	16. At Ends Where Life Begins

**XVI**

At Ends Where Life Begins

In the aftermath of the attack on Arendelle, which saw the kingdom lose its vaunted regent in a revelation of treachery and despair, the people had been healing, anchored by the efforts of the monarch that seen some of the darkest days of her world. Queen Elsa had also finally seen the day when her beloved Prince Yasha would find the place she had always wanted for him, somewhere within the complicated nobility of the kingdom and finally able to stand on his own as a leader not only among his people, but among hers. It had been a bumpy road to say the least, but things had finally started to calm down.

At least, that was what she had started to believe.

Walking briskly down the hall and her lips pursed firmly, Elsa turned her eyes to the captain that walked next to her, her patience started to thin and her eyes reflecting the depth of her mood. "Okay, but I'm asking why he's suddenly called together some huge assembly without actually telling me what it's for. I'm the queen around here, you know. Why does everyone think they can run the kingdom behind my back?" she complained, feeling that he was possibly the most deserving of her complaints, though to her endless annoyance he was being obstinate, a word she had gotten too accustomed to when thinking about him.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I don't presume to understand why the baron does what he does. I'm a mere captain of the Royal Guard. I only follow orders," Johann replied, though his usually-crafted mask was cracked by a smile, giving him the same arrogant air he had often showed to her in their checkered past.

"How convenient for you, Johann," she complained further, eyeing him sternly as he continued to lead her towards the Grand Banquet hall.

Even before the hall could be seen, she could hear the indelible rumble of a large group of people beyond the closed doors, which made her skin start to feel hot and the sweat begin to show at her brow. She wasn't fond of large gatherings, especially when they were thrown on her at the last minute and purposely shrouded in mystery.

Johann had been picking up on her mood, though something else was on his mind as he walked next to her. He could barely accept that he was still allowed to be near her when he had played the part of her villain. The decision to allow him to remain within the Guard still bewildered him, though he was just as much a victim of his own heart as he watched her, smitten at the way she still struggled with her responsibilities. At times, he felt like he was still looking at her from a distance, seeing a frightened child that needed to be protected, but he quickly shook away those thoughts, remembering they had been shattered in recent times. Shaking off the past wasn't as easy, however, and he stopped just short of the doors, his green eyes reflecting his own torment as they still lingered upon her.

"Queen Elsa," he said, bringing her to a stop as she turned to face him, struck by how strange his expression was. His hands were tight at his side and his eyes were forcefully on her, though his resolve to speak his heart was not nearly as strong. "Before we go in, I just wanted to…I just wanted to say…"

"What is it?" she asked.

Johann still loved Elsa. He imagined he always would. While their union had fallen away to another destiny, he still struggled with the idea of letting her go, even though he had accepted that he had been his own greatest enemy in the battle for her heart. He had too easily embraced the villain within him and tried to force her into the role he envisioned for her. While he also realized that possibly nothing could have ever pulled her and her prince apart, it was his greatest regret that he never truly gave her the chance to love him, and that now that chance would never come. It was a fate he would have to live with, as he watched her live and love with another, though he accepted that that was simply the way it was, based on a tragedy of his own design.

Finding that he didn't have the courage to say anything more, he let out a slow breath and shook his head, brushing away the last of his overtures for her heart.

"Nevermind, Your Majesty. It's not important."

Elsa allowed him the retreat and marveled again at how much she liked this Johann better, when he wasn't trying to rule the world like his father. Despite his shortcomings, she was able to forgive him, for she did see many of the same things in him that she had first seen in Yasha.

Honor buried under deceit.

Courage buried under mistrust.

Devotion buried under ambition.

While she had long understood that they would never be together, she had never liked the idea of hating him, so to see him trying to be a better man made her happy, which she showed by thoughtfully placing her hand across his shoulder, bringing his eyes back to her. As someone who had been a part of her world since the beginning, she found that she would rather have him in it in the end, even if it wasn't in the place he had always wanted.

With the silent understanding they found, the murmur of the hall brought them back to reality and Johann pushed on with his duties, stepping past her and gripping the handle of the large doors. When he pulled it open, she found that the room was packed to capacity with not only the nobility of the kingdom, but with the people as well. With the addition of the people from Fria, the cavernous room was lined with whispering onlookers, all looking back to the end of the open pathway where their radiant queen was standing, her face paled and her back stiffening in a response to the sudden flood of attention on her.

"What did he do, invite the entire kingdom?" she muttered through her clenched jaw.

Her remark was met with a smirk from Johann, who then snapped to attention and announced with a loud voice into the hall that Queen Elsa had arrived. A hush fell over the crowd and she shot him a fierce glance, wondering if he had done that for a measure of revenge, but he simply lifted out his hand and gestured to the very front of the hall, where she could see that Yasha was standing in his elegant uniform, his eyes on her and his posture showing he was enduring the crowd far better than she was.

"The baron awaits."

Taking a deep breath, Elsa lifted her chin and began walking through the line of guards that led to him, making sure to walk slowly and calmly. As she neared the front of the hall, she noticed Anna standing in attendance with Kristoff at her side. His arm was hanging in a sling and the bandages on his shoulder could be seen at the neck of his shirt, but they were both eagerly watching her arrive at this assembly, for they were as much in the dark about its purpose as she was. Standing next to them was Olaf, frighteningly close to Sid, though he didn't seem to mind if a little piece of him melted because of her. Elsa silently echoed that Yasha had called the entire kingdom there, and her eyes moved from all of the others to the man that had stolen her heart, finding he still dominated the room with his presence and waited for her to arrive at his side.

As she ceremoniously stepped up to the center of the room, taking the rightful place of the queen, she continued to face him, her eyes relating just how annoyed she was that he was playing some kind of game with her, and that one day she would get him back for it.

"I'm sure you have a perfectly reasonable explanation for this?" she grumbled through pursed lips.

To her further anger, he just roguishly smirked and lifted his hand out, inviting her to look out at the kingdom as he turned to do the same. Once she complied, still showing the annoyance in her eyes, he settled once more and stared out over the sea of people, finding that even though this had been something he had practiced over and over, he wasn't nearly as prepared for it as he thought.

In all honesty, he mused he would rather try another distant jump with his FireStep than what he was about to do.

"People of Arendelle, I am Yasha, and I might stand here while naming off the many titles of which I am known. Prince. King. Captain. Baron. These are the banners of which I carry, and they might divide us or unite us as each one was spoken across the lips. I do not wish for that. I do not wish us to rise and fall by the utterance of names, for the people of Arendelle and Fria were brought together by an extraordinary destiny, one that transcends title, and makes us a common people, stronger than we were before because of the hearts we share and the tears we shed in union. We have all faced fire in these last few months, and the world has seemed like a frozen place. But these trials have forged the future upon which we will see a new world, a world that we will all create, hand in hand, without the fear of wandering in the dark and suffering these trials alone. I am that testament, for I once wandered in the dark and suffered my trials alone, but was bettered by the kindness of others, so that I may stand before you as I do now," he called powerfully, wooing the quiet room.

"Once, I was from Fria, but now am I from Arendelle. I am both, for I know what it is to love both and they no longer bear any border, and I would protect both with all of my heart, for that is all I have to offer. Some of you may still resist this world, seeing the lines between us as eternal and unforgiving. But that is not the world that Queen Elsa envisions, and to you few that cannot follow her eyes, I am now standing before you, the baron of the Royal Guard, the rightful heir of Fria and perhaps every other title you might speak, and I swear to you that I believe in her, that we can live together without prejudice, and that it is her dream that would lead us into the future and ordain that both Fria and Arendelle stand stronger together, rather than apart."

As he commanded the presence of the room, the crowd swayed on his every word, with people from Fria and Arendelle both seeing him as the paradigm of their union. This was most obvious as he glanced over Natasha and Wilhelm, who had been given a prominent place at the front of the assembly despite not being of the nobility, for it reminded him of the future that Elsa had offered him so many months ago. As he had finally accepted that he could no longer be a freelance ruler, he was taking advantage of his newly ordained position to put to rest any dissension within the kingdom, and to prove that he wouldn't just work to forge a new world, but would stand fast and make sure that it would endure.

"I do this as my oath to the queen," he said, then suddenly turned to Elsa and dropped to one knee, bowing his head deeply and prostrating before her, much to the shock of everyone. "I serve Queen Elsa. I believe in Queen Elsa. This is my vow to this kingdom and this queen, as a man who loves both with all of his heart."

The crowd buzzed as he bowed, with dozen of voices whispering and countless eyes upon them. The notoriously proud Yasha had never bowed to anyone in such a way, though seeing that he could submit to her in spite of his own personal influence made the crowd swell with pride and love. The first few claps cracked the silence, with a growing movement of hands that soon began to thunder across the hall. They applauded his duty, and they applauded her majesty. This union of their kingdoms had found a beautiful peak, with the royal bloodlines tied together and forming a secure foundation for them all. Even Anna and the others began to cheer with the crowd, finding his devotion infectious and supporting him with all of their strength. Only Elsa still felt uncomfortable as she looked from the ruckus of the crowd and to the man that was still bowing before her, feeling her lips drawn back in deference to this overwhelming will he commanded.

Now she really wanted to get back at him.

"This is really embarrassing, Yasha, and I think you've made your point. You can stand up now," she whispered sharply, flicking her hand up without letting the rest of the onlookers see. She understood why he had called the assembly now, though she was satisfied that he had assuaged any fears of having a man from Fria as the baron of the Royal Guard. By galvanizing everyone, he would make sure that there was no doubt that it was Elsa that ruled, and that he didn't have the ambitions the regent once accused him of.

In spite of his noble gesture, she simply wanted him to rise and stand next to her once more.

As intent as he had ever been in defying her, he slowly looked up with frightfully resolute eyes, his hand reaching out and catching hers, freezing them into a position that made her breath lodge in her throat. The eyes he offered her were like those ones when they had first met, when he had been so resolute in defeating the FireHeart that he had been willing to throw his life away.

As he looked at her with those eyes now and the crowds hushed, she fell completely unable to escape the spell he cast on her.

"Elsa, I am before you as a man whose many flaws are known by no other, and I am rightfully knelt before the dominion you have over me. We began our journey together in fire and ice, and perhaps neither of us could have ever imagined that we would be here together like this. You have been my enemy, my friend, my conscience and my queen. You have been, and always will be, my world. Now, as I am before you and your world, I ask you..." he said, reaching up with his other hand and sliding something onto her finger, making her gasp audibly as her eyes fell down to his offering.

"Would you now be my wife, and allow me to love you as I do, for as long as this heart is able?"

A flurry of gasps burst through the room and Elsa was stunned, placing her free hand up on her chest and moving her eyes to the ring. It was the one that he had worn around his neck, and was then forged by his magical flames and tempered by her ice. It was the ring that had burned a deep scar into his chest and saved him from the madness of the FireHeart, and it still had a mystic glow to it and an eternal chill that made even her skin feel cold. It was a ring that meant devotion and commitment and unyielding cause, and he was now putting it onto her hand, finally finding their fate in that quieted hall.

The hall, the crowd and the very world dulled to her and she could only feel the warmth of his hand, the band of ice around her finger and the raging inferno that was burning in her chest. "Oh Yasha…" she managed to choke out, though was wholly unable to do anything else.

"Marry me, Elsa," he whispered and she couldn't imagine herself answering in any other way.

"Yes. Oh, yes!" she cried wildly, enslaved by her rampaging emotions and suddenly toppling the both of them over as she threw her arms around him.

The hall erupted into cheers, with the air saturated by the subject that had long been whispered instead of shouted. With the world roaring around them, Elsa and Yasha suddenly looked from one another and to their spectators, smiling in embarrassment since they didn't share this moment alone, but also struggling to stand up in the midst of their pose and the pageantry, finally rising to their feet before the kingdom that looked upon them, the long-awaited rulers of Arendelle.

While Elsa was bashfully trying to hide her red face in the shoulder of her fiancée, Anna was hooting loudly at the development and how it had finally come to pass. She triumphantly reached over and slapped Kristoff across the shoulder, making sure that he was keenly aware and that he knew just how important she had been in making this all happen.

"Hah! How about that? I totally made this happen," she cheered triumphantly.

Kristoff grimaced, trying to focus his eyes against the sudden shock of pain that went through him. He was amazed that she was so focused on everything else and rolled his jaw. "Ow…" he groaned, rubbing his shoulder and giving her an incredulous look, making her wince and pat her own fiancée across his healing wound.

"Oh, sorry, sweetie."

With Anna and Kristoff otherwise engaged and surrounded by the hails of the kingdom, Olaf was nodding his approval for the union and gave the fiery sprite next to him a sly glance, looking for yet another way to bridge the gap between them.

"So does that mean we're brother and sister now, my little fire angel?" he asked wryly.

Sid gawked at him, though remained nearby instead of flying away as she always did, if only because a part of her did enjoy watching a part of him melt whenever she came near. "Could you really be any stupider?"

At the center of the raucous hall, Elsa was still trying to regain her composure while reveling in her engagement to Yasha. It was hard enough to resist the temptation of throwing her arms around him again and taking revenge against those lips that had publicly accosted her, but for the moment she was satisfied to stand so close to him and seeing him looking at her with the eyes he still showed. She thought of a million things to say, yet found nothing came from her mouth but a series of anxious laughs and half-formed words, though she hoped just the devotion she showed would be enough to convince him of the truth of her answer, and that she would marry him a thousand times over, if he would only ask a thousand more times.

Perhaps later, when she finally had him alone and free from the eyes of others, she would make him ask a thousand times again, and that it could be the way she got her revenge.

* * *

Long after the castle had calmed down from the madness of the engagement and the crowds had dispersed back into the world, Elsa was walking furiously through the hallways, trying to hide the emotions that still flustered her glowing face. Shortly after Yasha's proposal, she had been mobbed by a flock of excited people led by her sister, who had been grinning so wide that she thought Anna's ears might touch above her head. They all wanted to see the magical ring that was now on her finger and try to pry any juicy details about her unchained relationship with Yasha, though she was barely able to think straight with all that was going on and it was only Anna that kept the gang under control, even if she did fan the flames with a few sly comments about how much she knew about the secret affair. Her intimacy to the subject made Anna almost as much the center of attention as Elsa, which was fine by the flustered queen, as she had been secretly trying to find her elusive fiancée amongst the sea of chaos that surged around her. Strangely, he was nowhere to be seen, though she found that to be very much like him, to stir up the entire kingdom with a surprise proposal and then slip back into the shadows while she was mobbed. She grumbled about his knack for causing trouble and then leaving her to deal with the crowds.

Now that she had finally broken away from the attention and was solely intent on finding him, she discovered that he was truly missing, as if he had really become a shadow and faded away from the light. He wasn't in his room. He wasn't in the barracks. He wasn't on her balcony, where she first thought he would be. His sudden absence made her heart race harder, and it wasn't until she had randomly overheard a guard talking about the baron lingering in the throne room did she realize her destination.

At the closed doors of the throne room, two guards were standing watch as the queen came to a stuttering halt before them, looking at them inquisitively. They stared inquisitively back, quieted by the way she appeared. Her cheeks were flush and she was breathing heavily, as if she would be overcome by the sprinting of her heart. Her posture wasn't as practiced as was normal, but they seemed more disturbed by her sudden appearance and the silent duty they were performing.

Elsa panted a few times and straightened, realizing she still had to play the monarch and not let her emotions overcome her. Regaining her royal appearance, she kept staring at the closed doors before clearing her throat and looking to the guards. "Is the baron…" she began, then felt the cold title bite into her tongue, making her think of something better to call him, "I mean, is my fiancée…" This time the rush of blood that surged through her face reminded her just how real her engagement was, and that just the idea of finally marrying him flustered her to no end, forcing her to retreat from calling him that just yet. The guards exchanged glances when their queen began patting her hot cheeks in an effort to calm down. Ironically, she realized that he still had a myriad of titles, and that only one still slipped between her lips with no real resistance.

She took a deep breath.

"Is Yasha in there?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," one guard answered, looking back to her with the same look of panic in his eyes as before.

"But the baron ordered that no one enter," the other added, showing their obvious plight.

Her brow twisted. He had already assumed the mantle of tyrant to her heart, but to seal himself away at her seat of power confused her, until the moment she understood what he had been doing and the path he was laying out before her. It was frightening how well she understood him, for she had never imagined she would share such an affinity with anyone but Anna, though she realized that it was all part of love, and that knowing how he thought only brought her that much closer to his heart.

Realizing his intent made a slight smirk settle across her lips, then she squared her shoulders back and stared at the doors, fully intent on fulfilling her role.

"Open the doors."

She could barely hide the wonderful annoyance at the way he made her play his game.

Seeing that she was intent on overriding the orders, the quickly guards reached back to grab the handles, pulling the heavy doors apart for her and revealing the cavernous and empty room beyond. In the center, his back to them and causally looking at the single throne, Yasha didn't react to the breach of his orders. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him, at the way he stood powerfully in that empty room and managed to ignore even the appearance of Arendelle's ruler. Her annoyance at his games was instantly defeated by the realization of how much she wanted to see him alone and, without a word, she walked into the throne room, her shoes echoing loudly across the floor until she stood opposed to him, still staring at his back and thinking of the utter madness he had cast on her world. She had a number of things to say, about his proposal and the way he had ambushed her in front of everyone. She had even more things to say at the way he left her to the wolves, then forced her to search for him in her own castle. She had a million things to say about the aggressive posture he had taken since becoming baron, yet she stood there, staring at his back, unable to walk another step forward and unable to speak at all.

At the moment, her heart was beating too loudly to speak.

After a quiet eternity, he slowly turned from the throne and faced her, his eyes firm and his posture as regal as her own. He stood there, silent and unassuming, staring at her as if she had wandered into his realm. He had obviously been waiting for her and the only response he gave to the mutiny of his guards was a casual gesture towards them, making them push the doors closed once more. The demonstration of his power was second only to the demonstration of his heart, for just knowing that they now commanded the world and that they could be together any time, in any place, made those quiet few moments between them potent and pure.

The silence echoed loudly in her ears and she was twisting the magical ring on her finger, as she had been since he placed it there. She was still trying to grasp the realities of their world, but was utterly content of his role in it.

Without saying a word, she began to walk forward again, her pace growing quicker and more frantic with each step. She didn't stop until she reached him, and in a manner very unorthodox for a queen, she leapt into his arms and kissed him, which was the only real response she had for the madness of the day. With her legs curled up behind her and feeling his strong arms holding her aloft as they spun through the empty throne room, she suddenly began laughing, while at the same time she felt tears burning at the corner of her eyes.

In true form to love, she had no idea how she felt, for she was absolutely terrified and beautifully happy at the same time. It was a feeling that defied description, but she liked it.

As she was already twisted by her emotions and mauling their kisses with them, she remembered all of things she had wanted to say to him, though she couldn't remember anything specific. She wanted to echo her answer to his proposal those thousand other times, and tell him that she loved him more than she could bear. She wanted him to say it as well. Strangely, she wanted words to flow between them, but found that they couldn't, for words were inadequate in expressing their love, for that love was purely a matter of the heart, and the heart required no words at all. The heart only required each other, and that was the future that Elsa and Yasha now held in their arms, a future that would see them soon holding one another as husband and wife, and finally as the king and queen of Arendelle.

As it had always seemed destined to be.


	17. Epilogue

**Frozen – A Sky Full Of Stars**

Epilogue

At the summoning of his baron, Johann stepped out into the yard at the barracks of the Royal Guard, which was utterly deserted and swirling with dust and memories of times not long ago. No other person could be seen but for the single figure that stood at the center, appearing on fire under the afternoon sun. Seeing Yasha standing there, his hands clasped casually behind him and his gray eyes firmly set forward, Johann hesitated to proceed, feeling that now that he was in the inferior position and subject to his every whim, he would finally meet the consequences of his quest to destroy him. Even though Yasha had emerged victorious on all fronts of the war, with his impending marriage to Queen Elsa and his station as baron of the Royal Guard, Johann felt himself at the center of his attention now, and ripe for the charges that had so far eluded him.

Taking a deep breath and straightening his uniform, Johann finally pushed forward into the yard, regardless of what awaited him, listening to the way his boots crushed the earth under his feet as the only accompaniment to his march.

"You wanted to see me, Baron?" he said as he came to a halt in front of him, standing at attention and locking his eyes forward in the manner that was expected.

Yasha watched his entrance with little reaction. "Yes," he replied, letting the single response lingered in the air for a long time before finally continuing. "I have called you here for a single purpose. I wish to talk."

Johann's brow lifted. "What do you wish to talk about, my lord?"

"In the madness of the past few weeks, I do not believe we have had a chance to speak about this new arrangement within the Royal Guard," he explained simply, though his eyes were showing that he regarded the subject with the utmost seriousness.

"My apologies, Baron, but I don't see why we need to speak about anything. It was the will of the queen, and I've already submitted to her demands. You were generous enough to let me keep my commission, so I'm not sure what you'd want me to say," Johann replied in perfect form.

Yasha seemed amused at how hard he was trying to maintain his composure in light of the heavy air between them, though he wasn't lost on how vastly the tables had turned since the last time they had met in private.

"You have not visited your father since he was arrested, as I understand it," he remarked casually, "I find that surprising."

Just the mention of his father made Johann's skin flare and his eyes darted to meet him, showing that it was a sensitive subject for him. As it had been Yasha that had discovered the truth about him, he was particularly guarded in discussing the matter, especially as the image of him holding his dagger to his father's throat still burned brightly in his mind. He could instantly see that he was trying to bait him with the subject, though he was able to push down the intense heat in his blood, looking back forward with all of his self-control at stake, not to mention his reputation and continued commission.

"At the moment, I don't have anything to say to my father."

"At the moment, you say," Yasha remarked, paying particular note to his tone. "Your father caused the suffering of our people and nearly sacrificed the kingdom for his ambitions, and while the queen showed him clemency that I would not, his continuing presence in the kingdom, even while in prison, presents a particular concern for me. I have allowed his son to remain in the Royal Guard, in a position of trust. I need to know if at this moment or any other I am going to regret that decision."

The line of reasoning wasn't lost in the torrent of emotions that Johann suffered, for he was certain he wouldn't have made the same decision. There were already whispers that letting Johann remain as an officer in the Guard was as good as giving the regent a key to his cell, so he was baffled yet again why he was allowed to continue serving. "You won't regret it. My father's cell is his own and I won't be manipulated again. I serve the queen, and I serve you, my lord. There's nothing else but that."

"I see," Yasha replied, smirking slightly at how easily he felt he could reform and how easily he thought trust could be awarded. It was true that he had allowed much in recent days, but reality demanded that he not simply hope for the best, but make for the best. It was something he had learned well in his dealings with Johann.

"It was all a bit too easy, would you say?" he suddenly said, finally getting around to the point of it all.

"I'm afraid I don't follow. Nothing that's happened in recent memory would be what I call _easy_," Johann replied, smothering an impish smirk.

"The way the tides turned in the throne room, the way Elsa so easily took away your position," Yasha continued, his posture getting tense and his feet shifting, as if he expected the subject to suddenly turn against him, "Surely you must be burning inside at the thought of addressing me as baron. Surely you cannot abide my engagement to her. You hide it as well as you ever have, but the time for secrets is over. The time for masks has gone."

By now, the growing animosity in his voice was beyond Johann's capacity to ignore it and he slowly shifted his eyes to him, finding they were becoming less like fellow officers and more like rivals once more. He had no idea why he was taking them back in such a way. "I don't know what you…" he started, then was shocked when Yasha suddenly pulled his hand from behind his back and tossed a sheathed sword at him, making Johann's reflexes kick in as he caught it.

Even more than before, he had no idea what his intent was.

"What is this?"

"A sword, and a chance," Yasha replied, his hands kept tight at his sides and his eyes dangerously clear, "A chance to reveal your true heart. A chance to settle things between us with no room for misunderstanding. The final chance. If you cannot be the man I need to protect that which I love, then forget the pretenses and guilt-driven expectations."

"If I cannot trust you, Johann, then draw that sword and take the villain back. Whatever the outcome, this will be the last time I allow you to draw a blade against me."

Johann was silenced by the proposition. There was no logic in forcing the issue now, when Yasha had already won everything. It was as if he were simply rubbing his victory in his face. No small part of him wanted to draw the blade and run it through him, even though he knew it would be meaningless. He wouldn't regain his place as baron. He wouldn't win over Elsa's heart. He would simply lose everything, though he suddenly felt like that was Yasha's intent, to force him to destroy what was left of his world by his own hand.

With his green eyes flashing, he slowly pulled the sword from its sheath, listening to the singing of the metal as he did, then lowered it to his side. It would only take a moment to level the sword and engage him in the last duel they would ever fight. In truth, he thought the entire provocation a farce, yet when he took a good look at Yasha and the posture he had, he realized this was no bluff or flimsy attempt to discredit him. Barely visible at his back, Yasha's black-bladed dagger was ready to be drawn at a moment's notice, making Johann realize he wasn't just standing there and expecting him to back down, but was ready to meet him with as much ferocity as he ever had, and was obviously interested in seeing just who truly had the upper hand in battle between them. This was no empty gesture, but a true challenge to the end, and Yasha did it even as he stood to lose everything, with only the submission of a single man's heart as the spoils of his final victory.

Realizing the depths of the tribute, Johann's hand on the sword loosened, as he discovered that in light of the offer, he couldn't bring himself to hate Yasha as much as he had in the past, and that he would achieve his only measure of revenge against him by defying his expectations and acting the part of an honorable man. Bringing the sword up slowly, he turned it upside down and plunged the tip of the blade into the ground, letting it stand between them as a testament of his loyalty. He had given up his destiny as baron, just as he had given up his destiny as king. He had submitted to Elsa's will and made peace with her with his silence, and now he was finally ready to let go of his hostility towards Yasha, as he felt he could finally understand why she had chosen him and why he demanded the respect of those around him. He even demanded Johann's respect, not because it was revenge for their past, but because that was simply the air that surrounded him, one that demanded the devotion of enemy and ally alike.

Johann found himself able to respect him, settling back into the stance of a subordinate, his eyes cast forward and his hands free of the sword that would no longer be pointed in the wrong direction.

"Will that be all, Baron? I have duties to attend to."

Yasha watched him intently, his hand still ready to go for his dagger, yet seemed appeased by the way he submitted. In the past, there were many times when he wanted to end their rivalry with a swift draw of the blade, yet those times were gone now. Their rivalry could die, replaced with something else, though not even he knew what it would be. The promise that Johann would have to earn his continuing trust was as obvious as the sword that stood between them, while Yasha found it strangely ironic that the one thing that they did have in common was the love they had for Elsa, something that bound them both to serve her best interests, even when they weren't their own. In respect for that love and the honor he had reclaimed as he crawled back from the common place of villainy where he had fallen, he would give Johann the chance to see how far it would take him, for he already had a high standard to meet, as it was standing before him and sharing the same orbit around the radiant star that was the queen of Arendelle.

"That will be all, Captain," Yasha replied.

Letting his eyes slip back to meet him once more, Johann lingered in silence, having nothing further to say with words. Yasha's clemency demanded that he spend a lifetime repaying him and he wholeheartedly began from that moment forward, as was spoken in a silent oath as he lowered his head to his baron, and to his future king.

With the last of their matters concluded, Johann turned and walked from the yard, leaving Yasha to stand there alone with the dust and the sword, finding their tumultuous rivalry finally coming to a quiet, but satisfying close.

After Johann disappeared from the grounds, he stepped to the sword as it slowly waved back and forth in the breeze, his fingers slowly reaching out to rest upon the pommel. His eyes were cast down at the blade, quietly reviewing the decision. The man showed all of the merit that his position demanded, so he was ultimately comfortable with the outcome and tapped his fingers across the sword a few times before slowly raising his eyes to the only other person who had witnessed the exchange.

Elsa slowly emerged from the shadows of the castle and came into view on the walkway that overlooked the yard, her hands fanning out across the railing as she leaned forward to review him. He struck an amazing figure as he stood alone in the dusty yard, hand atop the sword and his eyes cast up at her, though she was relieved more than anything at how harmless the meeting had been. From the moment he had suggested it, she had objected, questioning why he still had to antagonize Johann in light of where they all stood. Even now, after they had parted without incident, she didn't understand the demands of men, though she did understand that allowing everyone to let go of the past would let them to move into the future, and that was something she had been greatly looking forward to.

As she stared down upon him, Yasha slowly nodded his head, showing that he had finally been satisfied with letting Johann remain in the Guard and that he was no longer looking back. Seeing this, she let out a sigh of relief and felt her lips hold the smile that grew whenever she thought of how different everything was. As there wasn't a soul to be seen in the part of the castle due to Yasha's newfound authority, she suddenly showed a mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she slowly curled her finger, beckoning him to where she stood. As long as she had him alone, she wanted to make good use of the quiet cage he had constructed around them.

Yasha felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips and tapped his fingers across the sword a few more times before finally stepping away, obeying her as was expected of him.

Happy that he would soon be with her, she slipped her arms back onto the railing and stared out to the kingdom beyond, trying to imagine how different their lives would be in the future, when they were no longer secret lovers, but bound as husband and wife. The storms had subsided and the future was as bright as the sun overhead, and she continued to play with the ring on her finger as she gazed, so content with her life now that she feared any change other change to it, not realizing that change was always in the wind and that she would always be required to meet it, no matter where it led her.

As she realized her life would always be filled with the ones she loved, she wasn't so afraid of meeting the storms.

He appeared behind her, his hand covering hers over the railing and closing around the oath he had placed on her finger. She let out a happy sigh and leaned back into him, pulling his arms around her and taking in the gentle breeze, enjoying the warm sun, and basking in the heat he had brought to her world. A content smile crossed her face as she melted into him, feeling him sway with her rhythmically, and her eyes closed as she became lost in the way his heartbeat resonated throughout her entire body while the breeze carried their conversation away.

"You're okay with him now?"

"I am satisfied with what he might become."

"I'm still mad at you, you know. Don't think you've gotten out of it."

"As long as it makes you smile as you are, I will bear it."

"It was a dirty trick. Besides, I thought you were afraid to be king."

"I came to terms with it before I asked for your hand."

"Ask me again."

"Would you say no this time?"

"Not likely."

"You are quite demanding, even for a queen."

"Shush. Now ask me again."

"Will you marry me?"

"Hmm, only nine hundred and ninety-nine more times to go..."

"You are keeping count?"

"Nevermind. And yes, I'll marry you. As many times as you ask, I'll marry you, my sweet _King Yasha_."

"I...might not be ready for that after all."

"Too late now. You're stuck with it, and with me. That heart of yours is mine, and I don't ever intend to let it go."

"I never suspected you were such a tyrant."

"You have no idea. Now, why don't we just enjoy the quiet here. It's not every day we get the castle to ourselves."

"And how long shall I keep the castle secured, my queen?"

"Is forever too much to ask?"

"There is nothing that I would not give you, Elsa, even if it is forever."

"Then hold me like this forever, Yasha. Right now, that's all I want in the world."


End file.
